Bad Behavior
by lisbeth14
Summary: Ana's boss, the demanding and arrogant Mr. Grey, likes to be in control. Ana suspects its due to a mutal loathing in each other. But what if she learns it isn't truly disgust in her at all, but a repressed sexual desire? What if Ana is more like Mr. Grey than she realized when it comes to getting kinky? After a very strange proposition, the pair embark on a BDSM relationship. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing to do with the 50 Shades Trilogy. I have never written fanfiction before either, so I'm not sure what anyone would think of this story-line. But please let me know your thoughts! I will expand more on their background, how Ana came to work for Mr. Grey and why he's the way he is. P.S: I don't mean to offend anyone, I know that is basically sexual harassment in the workplace, what he did, and she will confront him about it (while not understanding why she finds some satisfaction in it). This story will contain a lot of office a****ntics, and Christian likes controlling her/being dominant (ordering her to do things/and Ana will be much the same).**

**I hope this wasn't terrible, as far as beginnings go!**

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_**Bad Behavior**_

"Miss. Steele, I would like to see you in my office. Come quickly."

I know the instance Mr. Grey calls me into his office that I'm in trouble.

It's all in his tone of voice. Nasally and deceptively quiet as it comes through on the other line of the telephone.

"I'll be there in a few minutes, Mr. Grey," I tell him, trying to hide my frustration. "I'm just preparing these contracts to be faxed off, and then I'll be right in as soon as I can."

Mr. Grey is my boss, and I've worked for him for a little over three months now. He's the most irritating and arrogant man I have ever met. He's pompous, self-righteous, and bossy. Half the time I have trouble refraining from slapping him across the face. All the other girl's in the office that worked here with me didn't seem to despise him as much as I did. They would boast about how wildly good-looking he was, how so accomplished, for his age. And he_ is_ good-looking; Tall, seemingly self-confident, always dressed in what appears to be designer suits with his usual silk red tie impeccably straight. His hair, dark with a copper tinge, is always sleek and combed back behind his ears, and his bright grey eyes are always looking down on you constantly, like you are little more than something unpleasant stuck on his polished leather shoes.

But fortunately for me, I can see through the exterior. I maybe might have found him good-looking as well, if only he wasn't such a demanding and rude asshole. One time he dared to comment on the skirt I had chosen to wear, telling me it was "too short" and, last time he checked, he wasn't running a strip-joint.

Another time, he demanded I go to the vending machine and buy myself some peanuts and a chocolate bar for lunch when he noticed I hadn't brought anything to eat for the day.

In high school and uni, I had met my fair share of intolerable men, boys, whatever. But Mr. Grey definitely tops the cake and wins the prize above them all. Not that being an asshole is medal-worthy, or anything like that.

Sometimes I wondered if I ought to have gotten a pay rise for all the things I have done for him. He orders me around to make him coffee, he orders me around to get him something for lunch, while he never does that to any of the other girl's. I get stuck with the trivial, extra duties like that. I think he's like an animal that can sense my loathing of him, so he deliberately uses it to his advantage to stir me up. It's probably because I'm literally the only girl in the office who stands up to his miserable ass. Maybe it's some kind of sick enjoyment he has, in watching me fight back and not just sit and take it?

I suppose quitting would be a reasonable thing to do, but I have never seriously considered it. I need this job to support myself and the pay was enough to get me through Mr. Grey's antagonizing ways. I graduated from Washington State University a year ago, majoring in English Literature, but there hadn't been any jobs suitable for what I wanted to do in mind, so I had to settle for working in Mr. Grey's business. My best friend and room-mate Kate Kavanagh had been the one that suggested I try for a position in his firm, and a month after I was secure in my job, Kate and I had decided to live together in an apartment. I needed this job to afford my side of the rent, so quitting wasn't really an option I could afford to take. The job had its upsides and downsides, like any does. Mr. Grey was definitely a downside.

Deliberately prolonging the moment, I take my time with the contracts, hoping maybe soon he'll forget he even called me into his office to begin with. But, with Mr. Grey, it's always wishful thinking.

I look up from my stall, hurrying as quickly as I can, and instantly I'm met with his cold stare as he stands outside the entryway of his office, both hands on his hips like a gravely stern school-teacher. To someone else, they would probably be quivering in their boots at the look on his face, but I had grown well used to it by now.

Foolishly, I begin to hope he will magically disappear as I ignore him, spinning around in my chair to face the fax machine. Mr. Grey is hardly what you would call a patient man. So I don't know why I feel so surprised when suddenly he's standing over my chair, bending over my shoulder, his face inches away from the side of mine.

"Are you unable to hear me, Miss. Steele?" He whispers near my ear, his voice low and harsh. "I believe I asked you to come into my office immediately. There was an issue with the paperwork you sent me that needs to be rectified."

I feel my cheeks flush with anger as I bite down on my lip. "I know, Mr. Grey, I heard you. But I can't do two things at once. I would like to finish what I'm doing in faxing these first before I-"

"My office now," he cuts me off, his mouth coming closer to the shell of my ear. "Don't make me ask you again."

"Fine," I spit out, miffed. "I'll be right in, if you could please just give me a bit of distance so I can stand?"

When I see him stand up fully to his height and back away from me, I stand slowly, trying to calm down my erratic breathing. My hands tremble at my sides as I look up at his face. Mr. Grey is a good ten inches taller than me, maybe even more, and he clearly relishes making me feel small and short.

He's just an asshole all around. A damn gorgeous asshole.

He stares at me for a moment, his jaw tensing then slackening, then he turns abruptly on his heel and strides towards his office. I have to follow and I hate it. Straightening my shoulders and puffing out my chest, I make my way after him, dreading it as every moment goes on. The instance I'm inside his office, Mr. Grey slams the door shut roughly like a two-year old having a temper tantrum and dashes quickly to his seat behind his desk.

"Get over here and look at what you've done, Miss. Steele." He jabs his forefinger down on the paper that's in front of him, which I'm one-hundred percent positive is one of the documents I typed on my computer for him.

What I've done? As far as I was aware of, I hadn't done anything but what he has asked of me. Taking in a deep breath, I approach him with my usual bravery that most of the other girl's didn't obviously possess, setting my chin and staring down over his shoulder at my recent work.

"Do you see anything wrong with this at all?" he asks me, rotating quickly in his chair to look me full-on. His kneecaps brush up against my thighs.

Without meeting his gaze, I read through what I have typed mentally in my head. I can't see anything wrong with what I have written, though. "But Mr. Grey, sir, I don't understand? I did what you asked of me. I did everything you wanted me to do? As far as I can tell, there isn't any spelling errors or anything. I always make sure my work is polished and I read it several times so I have everything correct." If he's going to make me look like a fool, well, over my dead body. He can kiss my ass, for all I care. "Can you maybe elaborate on what you think I've done wrong regarding this, because I fail to see it, Sir."

"You fail to see it?" He repeats. I hear the squeaking noise his office chair gives out as he stands, but I refuse to meet his eyes, nor give him the satisfaction. Since he has moved out of my way, I rest both hands on the table, inspecting my work more closely. I still can't see what he is trying to get at, though. But that's probably his point; He's doing it to be unfair. "How can you fail to see it? It's right there in front of you, Miss. Steele?"

I lean over the table, looking closer. "Where, Sir? I don't see anything-"

_Then it happens._

Mr. Grey's arms come around me, hands sliding over the table to cover mine, the length of his body pressing into the back of mine. My breath gets caught in my throat when I feel his groin digging into my backside and he rests his face near the crook of my shoulder-blade.

"You're so argumentative, Miss. Steele. Why can't you be like all the other girl's, huh? Why do you have to get me so wired up?"

Mr. Grey has never done anything like this before. He has never gotten close to me before, or touched me in any way, or said anything like this to me. Suddenly I feel consumed by Mr. Grey, surrounded by all that is him. And, much to my surprise, despite my strong level of disgust towards him and his arrogant ways, I discover I hardly am turned-off by what he is doing one bit.

He turns his face into the side of mine, his mouth parted and touching my cheekbone. "Now do you see it, Miss. Steele?" He asks me, his voice just above a strained whisper. "Now do you possibly see? Am I making myself..." He gives out a deep grunting noise from the very back of his throat as he thrusts his groin up against my rear in a sudden, savage jerk. "... clearer now, Miss. Steele?"

It occurs to me that I'm turned on. I'm turned on, yet simultaneously disgusted, with what my boss is doing, at his closeness. I hate him, yet at the same time, I'm loving what he's doing. A tight ache forms in my belly, and I'm aroused. I'm aroused over what my asshole boss, Mr. Christian Grey, is doing to me over his desk. And, apparently I'm not the only one. His breathing is ragged and unsteady as he rubs himself against me a few more times with his groin, and it's really lucky the table and his arms are in my way to stop myself from falling straight over.

To my horror, I hear myself actually whimpering, "Oh, Mr. Grey."

For what feels like an eternity, I just stand there, leaning over the desk, startled by Mr. Grey's actions, while he satisfies himself in moving against my behind with his groin through the material of his trousers. His hands grip mine tightly, tendons stretching and knuckles reddening. The friction is obviously enough for him to really get going, because when he reaches that peak, he lets me know by pressing his mouth into the fabric of my blouse to stifle the moan he gives off in his office, and hearing the sound as he orgasms astonishingly thrills me, rather than sickens me on some level. He shudders against me, making me shiver in return, and then everything turns eerily silent, apart from his breathing as he recovers. Then I guess once he has recovered enough, he straightens up and moves away from me, running both hands through his thick hair, making it stand up on end.

He refuses to meet my eyes as he stares around the room, stunned, as if he can't believe what just happened himself. He looks unlike his normally composed self; His tie is crooked, and his face is flushed. Then, as he finally gains enough courage to look at me, I realize he looks disgusted with himself, truly disgusted with self-loathing.

"Thank you," he mutters, somewhat drained. "That's all for now, Anastasia. You can get back to work now."

I nod, still too stunned to speak, walking towards the door to his office with limbs that feel like lead. But just as I reach it, it dawns onto me that he called me by my first name. He hasn't done that before either.

"You know my name," I whisper under my breath in shock. He has never used my name before, just only my surname. I never even knew he cared to remember what my first name was.

"Of course I do," he says, his throat tight. "I'm your employer, for fuck sake. Now get out." I've never known someone to have such mood swings before. One minute he's clothes-humping me, and now he's back to his usual grumpy, asshole self. Clicking his fingers, he points to the door impatiently, waving his arm around. "Get out of my office!"

_Confusing son of a bitch._

Suddenly Mr. Grey doesn't seem like such a bad boss to work for after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, I want to thank you all so much! As a new person here, I wasn't expecting the response I received! Thank you, it's much appreciated. Hope this chapter is all right lol.

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**_Chap_****_ter Two _**

Once I exit Mr. Grey's office and close his door halfway, I curl my arms around my stomach, attempting to regulate my fast breathing with some difficulty. I feel as if I've only just imagined the whole thing that only just went on in his office, but then the soreness of my backside in my skirt confirms otherwise. It truly happened with Mr. Grey just then. He rubbed himself up against me. _But then what in the holy cow was that?_

Mr. Grey is my boss. He's my employer. It never should have happened. Taking advantage, workplace harassment, and all that.

But it did... and I'd be full of it if I said I didn't enjoy it.

God, what is wrong with me? Mr. Grey is a total jackass. A control freak, who evidently gets off on ordering me around. So how and why could I have possibly enjoyed it? Why am I so weird?

I should have pushed him away. Threaten to sue him, even. Yet all I could manage was to just stand there and let him have his way. Let him get me all flustered and speechless. I've never been with a man before. I've never had a man do anything to me before. And... Mr. Grey just did. Completely out of the blue.

How am I supposed to face him now, and remain completely normal around him? How can I take his orders and be a good employee without seeing what he just did to me play over again in my head?

_My head..._

The images blast through my subconscious suddenly.

Mr. Grey tying me to his office chair with duct tape, him on his knees below me taking full control, dominating me. Mr. Grey using the striped red tie he always wore with his suit to keep my hands behind my back while he fondles my breasts and kisses around my throat, ravaging me like a hot meal. Mr. Grey directing me to bend over his desk, while he folds his shirtsleeves up, lifting his hand in the air to spank me to the heavens...

"Miss. Steele?"

His voice through the crack in the door brings me unpleasantly back down to earth with a crash and I grimace to myself as it occurs to me that I'm just standing there, outside his office door, daydreaming like an idiot. Mr. Grey no doubt wants me to jump straight back to work. Whoops.

For a moment I consider ignoring him and racing straight back to my work station, but it's obvious he knows I'm here.

"Miss. Steele?" He repeats, lifting his voice a little. "I know you're standing there. I can hear you breathing loudly."

_So much for ignoring him and playing it cool..._

"Er, yes, Sir?" I slap myself mentally on the face. My voice comes out wrong; It's too meek, too fragile.

"Are you aware of what time it is, Miss. Steele? Do you remember what you're required to do for me at this time?" For once, he doesn't sound annoyed with me. But if I could actually see him through the door, I bet his expression would reveal otherwise.

I frown at his question, my mind running blank. _Where was Mr. Grey going with this? Why isn't my mind working with me today?_

I don't exactly want to face him just yet, but I know I have to sooner or later. It is really now or never.

I try to appear as normal and professional as possible, as I step back into his office again, pushing the door halfway open, leaning by the entryway. Instantly I regret looking; He looks as if nothing even happened between us barely minutes ago. Okay, so he's a little flushed and his hair is unkempt as he leans back in his chair with his shoes resting on his desk and his hands behind his head, but that's it. No other telling sign.

"I'm not so sure I'm following, Mr. Grey, sir?"

I notice he refuses to meet my eyes as he brings his hands out from behind his head, pulling his feet down and sitting straighter in his chair. I get the faintest impression that he's ashamed, as he should be, while he fiddles with the stapler on his desk, flicking it with his thumbnail.

"Be a good girl and make me a coffee, will you?" he asks me in a strange tone. "You know how I prefer it."

_Oh, of course! It's 1.30. Coffee time, for Mr. Grey._

Three months ago, on my very first day working for Christian Grey, he actually had the nerve to hand me a timetable he had written up, all by himself in his own handwriting, of the precise times he wanted me to bring him in a cup of coffee. A cup of coffee I made manually myself, three times a day for him- something no one else had to do for him. He's that much of a control freak that he has specific times for when his coffees are taken to him. Since I wanted to impress my boss and hold down the job, I made sure I never forgot, for fear of losing my job. But today was different, and it slipped my mind completely.

"Oh, yes, Sir, I do," I retreat dutifully. "Black, with one sugar?"

He looks up from the stapler and smiles at me. It isn't a sincere smile, it's forced, but still it's a smile. I haven't seen Grey smile once, in all my three months of working for him. But he looks so much better when he does, so much younger and less... intimidating somehow. Usually he's so demanding and uptight that a pleasant smile hardly ever surfaces. "Very good, Miss. Steele."

My heart surges with quiet pride as I loiter around awkwardly. He's never commended me on anything before. Suppose today is a big time for firsts. I go to leave, but he speaks again.

"Oh, and there is another thing before you leave..."

"Yes, Sir?" I spin around eagerly, clasping my hands in front of me. I'm still waiting for him to mention about what just happened, maybe even swallow his pride and apologize. Only it's obvious I'm not going to get it. "Is there something else you...uh, are wanting with your coffee? Maybe something you need to say to me?"

He puts one elbow on his desk, stroking around his chin with his fingers. "Do you attend funerals religiously?"

My brows crinkle in confusion as I try to figure out where he is going with this. "Funerals? Uh, no, Sir." I laugh nervously, staring at the top of his head. What a strange question. "What makes you say that?"

"I thought that perhaps you did. It would certainly explain your choice in the dull, monotone colors you select to wear every day of the week."

_Oh, he's talking about my clothes._ Self-consciously, I smooth my hands down the sides of my skirt. Today I'm wearing a short-sleeved, white ruffled blouse, a black tube skirt that just reaches the top of my knees, and a pair of black patent Mary Jane shoes. Other girl's in Mr. Grey's firm wear similar clothing to mine, but I suppose I'm the one who only really wears black and white all the time, while they prefer to mix it up every once in a while. Most of the girl's in Mr. Grey's office are blond, with me being the only exception. I figured, when I went into his building the first time for my interview, that he had a thing for blond women with fake breasts. I guess I'm breaking the trend. I didn't know what I wear would be such a huge deal to Mr. Grey, though. I can't believe he bothered to notice what I wear, even.

"I've always thought black and white are professional colors myself, personally," I manage, with just enough frostiness in my voice to let him know I don't appreciate the comment.

"Well, as you might have already gathered, since you work for me, you are a... visual representation of my firm." He licks his lips as his grey eyes rake down my outfit. There is nothing in his expression that I can read, but there's that same old arrogance and self superiority about him. "You look as if you are working in a funeral home, or in a morgue." He tilts his head slightly, his next words softer and blase, "Are you working in a morgue, Miss. Steele?"

My muscles tense and my jaw tightens as I stare at him. I don't understand why he insists on asking me pointless questions. Is this his way of degrading me? Tearing me down, even? Does he really find me that unattractive and irritating just to even look at?

I wring my hands out at my sides, fighting the impulse to lunge at his desk and pounce. I want my hands around his neck, I want to strangle him. I never knew I had the potential to be a violent person, until working with Mr. Grey. He frequently brought that side out of me. Of course, I never acted on those impulses, since he's still alive. But there were plenty of times where I felt tempted to knee him in the groin, or stab him in his main carotid artery with a pen. Apparently hate can turn quickly into attraction, though. For some reason, I don't find myself loathing him as much as I usually did, after what he just did to me by dry-humping me on his desk. Those homicidal thoughts aren't as vicious. No, instead of homical... those thoughts have turned strangely sexual.

"No, Sir, I'm not working in a morgue. I'm working for Mr. C. Grey, at his law firm."

"Then I suggest that when you come into work tomorrow morning, you wear something colorful and less depressing."

A lethal wave of fury and humiliation hits me. "And it bothers you that much what I wear, Mr. Grey?"

I see a silent fury similar to my own flicker in his eyes as he raises his chin, his lips compressed in a thin, tight line.

"Does it keep you up awake at night, stressing over the fact that poor, little Miss. Steele at your firm doesn't wear any bright colors?"

He looks slightly taken aback by me defending myself, as he always does when I dare to. It only just makes me feel good, incredibly empowered.

I see the bright anger in his eyes fade slowly as he blinks at me, his gaze not leaving mine. "Oh, no, you wouldn't like to know what keeps me up at night, Miss. Steele," he mutters under his breath, shuddering visibly. Then as if taking full control of himself, he clears his throat, "But long story short, when you arrive here tomorrow morning I expect to see you wearing something bright and colorful. No blacks, no greys, and certainly no whites." The words fall off his tongue quickly and sternly. "You're better than that, aren't you?"

"I don't know, Mr. Grey. _You_ tell me. _Am_ I?"

He rises from his chair quietly, leaning over his desk with all his weight on his fists, "Mind your tongue with me, Miss. Steele. Do not forget who you are speaking to like this."

"I know who I'm talking to," I keep up, irritation flooding me.

"_I_ am the boss. I make the rules and the orders here. It's my job, and it's what I do best."

Losing it, I dart around his desk to get to him, and the bastard looks astonished as he backs away, holding his hands out in front of himself, steepling his fingertips together in a triangular shape near his groin in his black suit pants. Him treating me like an unpredictable animal only turns me on.

"So what are you going to do to me, Mr. Grey?" I ask him defiantly, lifting my chin to meet his eyes. "Are you going to do with me what you did before while I was standing over your desk?"

He swallows audibly as he drops his eyes down to my shoes instead. "No."

I feel terribly disappointed over that. "Why not?"

"Because you haven't been bad enough yet for it to happen again."

So I have to be a bad girl for it to happen again with Mr. Grey? Well, I suppose it can be arranged.

**Hope this was okay? I hope I'm doing alright for a first time writing fanfiction. I would love to know your thoughts, thank you! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you guys so much. Hope you enjoy this one :) Sorry if you were waiting to see Ana take up his suggestion on the clothes, she will do it next chapter. :) I never expected such encouragement for the story, so I'm very humbled. As usual, please do tell me your thoughts, as I love knowing them (or any suggestions you have, if any). Thank you! :)**

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_**Chapter 3**_

After Mr. Grey's coffee is made in the staff lunch area, I make my way back down the corridor to where his office is, gripping the mug carefully in both hands so I don't spill it, something I know he won't like to happen. He says that I haven't been "bad enough" for whatever happened before to happen again, and, for some inexplicable reason beyond me, I find myself hoping for it to happen again- something that a sane, full-grown woman shouldn't be wanting. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe I'm crazy? Or maybe... it doesn't even matter what I am?

As I reach the door to his office, I stop and take a moment to breathe deeply. Usually I'm never this nervous, because I always seem to know what I'm expecting with Mr. Grey. But today, all my expectations have seemed to have blown straight out of his high office window. Shaking my head to clear it of any thoughts, I shoulder my way into his office, finding him sitting behind his desk again in his leather recliner.

My hands shake and I feel hot coffee spilling over my fingers as I catch his gaze and hold it while I tread slowly towards his desk. Mr. Grey has always had this intense and serious way of staring at someone, as if he's willing you silently to spill the beans; A stare that I usually didn't let affect me. But as I look into his eyes, I see what happened all over again, with me leaning over his desk rereading my typed paper and Mr. Grey closely behind me, and it makes me feel increasingly embarrassed and flustered. I'm clueless; I have no idea how to deal with a situation like this. I don't know whether to act normal, or to just forget about it, threaten to sue his ass or- what?

"Here's your coffee, Mr. Grey." Much to my relief, my voice sounds normal. At least I have that working in my favor. "Exactly the way you like and expect it."

He stands from his chair while smoothing down his red tie with his hand, but he doesn't say anything. He simply watches me as I ceremoniously plunk the mug of coffee down in the middle of his modern, dark-wood desk.

Mr. Grey never says 'Please' or 'Thank you'. He rarely ever does, not to me or any of the other employees, and it doesn't seem to be the way he operates. He probably believes since he is boss and he pays us, he is above and beyond all that. So I'm not holding out for it to happen now just because I've obeyed him in bringing in a freshly made coffee for him.

"Is there anything else you need while I'm here, Mr. Grey?"

"No, that will be all," he says in a soft and curt manner, clearly dismissing me from the room.

As he squeezes past me to get comfortably seated into his chair again, he brushes up against me, and I feel my entire body stiffen in anticipation. The fact I'm dying for something to happen between us again- it's ridiculous. Realistically, I shouldn't feel this way. Christian Grey is my boss. But above all that, he's been giving me hell the past three months since I first started working for him. I'm supposed to hate him. Well, hate may possibly be a strong word because I know he has given me such an amazing opportunity in working for him and getting a steady income.

But he's an arse...

A bossy control-freak.

Just a couple of minutes ago, he had the audacity to tell me I look as if I'm dressed for a funeral. I ought to be super pissed-off, and frankly, I am. But why the sudden dramatic change in my feelings for him?

"I hope you will follow through on my suggestion, Miss. Steele," he says, tearing me out of my thoughts.

For a second there I don't understand what he means. And then I do, just like that.

_And he was really just starting to grow on me..._

"Don't count on it," I grumble under my breath. "You have no right."

I see him shift in his chair, leaning closer as if to hear me more clearly, "Excuse me?" The tone of his voice tells me he is not at all pleased. Well, too bad. I'm really not here to make him happy. When it comes to my work duties, yes. But aside from that, no.

"I found your suggestion unnecessary, sir," I say truthfully, since I know there is no way I can dig myself out of this hole I've started digging for myself, "Not to mention inappropriate. You are my boss, yes, but I don't feel that gives you the right to dictate what I wear or what I don't wear to work. It was an inappropriate remark, bordering on harassment."

I glance quickly at his face to see how he's taking that. His mouth falls open, but with some effort, he closes it back up again.

"I did not realize it would be interpreted that way," he mutters quietly, through gritted teeth. "I merely meant it as-"

I interrupt him, "You've been commenting on the way I've dressed ever since I started working for you. The skirt I once wore, it was shorter than the one I'm wearing now, and you said it was unsuitable for work?"

"Well, it was."

"Half of the other staff here wear cocktail dresses, outfits you expect to see worn to college frat parties, and yet you don't pull them out on it, Mr. Grey."

"Maybe that's because it's different with them."

"Oh, how so?" I demand, looking him directly in the eye.

I relish the expression on his face as he stumbles around on how to give me a reasonable and valid answer on that one. It's obvious he doesn't have one for me; He cocks his head to the side, glancing around his office before meeting my gaze again. "I don't have the answer to that, Miss. Steele. I suppose I..." He hesitates for a moment, bringing an elbow up to rest it on the arm of his chair, stroking around his chin in deliberation. "I suppose I don't like it."

"Like what?" _Boy, do I love putting him in a hard and difficult corner with my questions. Let's see how he wheedles his way out of this one..._

"The... idea of you dressing like that, for anyone. Not without being told to first, at least."

Told to first? My body quivers as a rush of heat gushes up to my face. Is he daring to say what I think he's saying?

"I'm not a little girl, Mr. Grey."

His eyes burn into mine, forcing me to stare back challengingly for all its worth. "Oh, I'm aware of that, Miss. Steele. Believe me."

"I don't need anybody telling me what I can or can't do, least of all you. Why are you like this?"

"What am I like?" He asks, his eyes searching my face. He sounds surprised. Anxious even.

"A control-freak. Do you get off on bossing people around?"

A deep chuckle gets caught in his throat, as he struggles to maintain a straight face. "That's a stupid question, of course I do. It's why I make a good boss. I'm unashamed of it, I can't be afraid of making orders otherwise I would be a failure at it. It's what I need to do, otherwise time management would be poor around here and nothing would be done. I'm a firm believer in regimented, structured routines. But that is how I have to be in my position of authority."

"Have you always been like this?"

"I have, yes." He smiles slightly, but there's a faraway and distant look in his eyes as he stares up at me. "I remember, when I was six or seven, I was watching the cartoon network and there was this scene where Roadrunner was tied to the train tracks by rope. He couldn't get free; He was completely helpless and constricted. It was fascinating. I like the idea of... total control. I suppose you could say I was born to be boss. I like everything to be running smoothly. Control is... safe." Somehow I get the impression he isn't merely talking about his working life, but rather his personal life, or at least one aspect of a fantasy he has. Not really sure which, or why this even suddenly came into our conversation. I never asked him about which cartoons he loved to watch as a little boy, did I?

We lapse into a silence while I stand around his desk. I can't help but feel somewhat glad I know more about my boss. I'm learning a bit more. I don't really understand much, though, but it does help to know him a bit more on a personal level.

And I'm supposed to be working right now, not chatting...

"I really should be getting back to work," I tell him apologetically, backing away slowly. "Sorry. I shouldn't be, uh, hanging around. I hope you enjoy your coffee."

"I'm sure I will," he says quietly.

I take it as my cue to leave, but then another question comes at me. I realize I have never spoken to Mr. Grey before, least of all about his personal life, or what he is like outside of work. I don't even know how old he truly is, or whether he has a girlfriend. Wouldn't she be mad to know what he did to me while I was leaning over his desk? If I was his girlfriend, I sure would be to know he's dry-humping other women on the job.

"Are you gay, Mr. Grey?" The question comes out of my mouth without any sense. I know it's incredibly rude to ask, but somehow my mouth doesn't seem to care. He has never mentioned anything about a significant other, nor given the impression he's a taken man.

There's a terrible noise as he chokes on his mouthful of coffee. He makes a noise a mixture between a cough and an annoyed grunt as he wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. "Excuse me?"

"What? It's a valid question. I mean, there's... nothing wrong with being gay."

"Do I look gay to you, Miss. Steele?" He doesn't look happy by my asking one bit. Well, good. I'm glad.

"Well, I don't know. Personally I don't think anyone can look gay. I don't believe you can work out someone's sexual preference simply by looking at them."

"No, I am one-hundred percent heterosexual, if that's what you're asking?"

"Oh." Well, everything is great now that he has cleared that up. "And, do you have a... a girlfriend?"

"No. Never had one."

_What? He's never had a girlfriend?_

"Never?" I repeat in shock.

"Never," he repeats vehemently. "Why the sudden interest?"

"Oh, no reason. I'm just trying to figure my boss out a bit more." I know I should leave and get to work, but I'm sincerely curious. "But... why not? Why have you never had a girlfriend?" I mean, he's an asshole. But he's still attractive enough that it might make up for it in some women's eyes.

"I'm not the dating type. And besides, even if I was, I don't think a woman could stand being around me."

_In some ways he isn't wrong there..._

"Somehow I don't find that very hard to believe," I laugh, forgetting my manners. Oh, God. How rude of me.

"I beg your pardon, Miss. Steele?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't mean to offend you. It's just that... you are a very difficult man to deal with. Speaking from an employees perspective, of course."

"And do you have a boyfriend, Miss. Steele?" he asks me, his voice clipped and rather rude in tone. I have definitely succeeded in offending him. "Are you seeing anyone currently?"

I don't know why he is bothering to ask me, but maybe he's just asking out of general curiosity because I've asked him?

"No, Sir. I'm not dating anybody." I have a male friend, Jose, who I know is interested in me romantically, or so my best friend Kate tells me. But it's one-sided, and I'm not interested in anything happening with him in that way. I've known Jose since we were six years old.

"Do you like women?"

_Er, all right. So I deserve that._ "No. I... suppose I just haven't found the right person for me yet."

"Then we're not all that different after all, are we?"

_Me and Mr. Grey? Alike? "_Oh, I think we're very different, Mr. Grey." For one thing, he's a control-freak and really rude, whereas I like to think I'm not. Plus, I'm fairly certain he's loaded with money. The car he brings to work is a jet-black Lamborghini. I think he does it on purpose because he likes to be noticed and he wants everyone to know he is richer than they will ever be. "We couldn't be two more different people. We're... polar opposites."

"And sometimes that works," he says, leaning back in his chair. "Sometimes two people can make the perfect combination."

Oh okay. So what is he trying to say?

"Is there anything else I can get you before I leave?"

He gives me a weird look as he takes in my clothes again. Then he shrugs and sighs, shaking his head disdainfully. "For the hundredth time, no, that will be all, Miss. Steele. But just consider my suggestion. You might be surprised at what a few bright colors can do to your figure."

"Duly noted," I tell him with an insincere smile.

"And if you don't take my suggestion seriously and show up to work tomorrow looking as I asked, I'll have to bend you over my knee." The comment is so quiet I almost think I've imagined him saying that. When I stop stock-still and throw a quick glance over my shoulder, Mr. Grey has his nose buried in his papers productively.

_No. Must be wishful thinking..._

As the day goes on, it's the same old routine. When my fifteen minute lunch break arrives, I head into the staff area and retrieve the latest book I'm reading out of my bag. I'm a big reader, and I consider my book collection my most prized possession. Kate calls me antisocial because usually I prefer to stay indoors reading rather than partying or heading out on blind dates with her. If that makes me antisocial then too bad. I don't care.

I like to spend my lunch break at my desk, reading while having a cup of tea. So that's what I do.

I'm just getting settled in my seat comfortably and finding the page I'm up to, when it occurs to me that Mr. Grey is watching me through the glass window of his office. I don't think he realizes I can see him doing it, but he's staring right intently at me while rubbing the side of his face with his hand. It's as if I'm a wild and exotic creature he can't figure out. Weird. Just to break the ice, I smile at him, almost a rude sneer. It seems to do the trick because he glances away quickly, focusing on the stapler on his desk again. Fortunately for me, the looks end there. I have no idea why he was staring for.

Three hours later, we all get ready to leave for the day.

I make sure my desk is neat and orderly, tuck in my chair, then go to collect my jacket.

I find Mr. Grey all set and ready to leave by the elevator, fixing up his red tie and tucking his shirttail into his trousers neatly. Preening. Usually he's already long gone by this time of the afternoon but he seems to be taking his sweet, sweet time today. I can't help but gather the impression he's waiting for me to talk privately, because I overhear he tells Andrea, another one of the women I work with, to hurry her ass up authoritatively before the elevator doors squish her.

I'm pretty confident Andrea has the hots for him - the only woman who could.

The elevator doors open and then I have no choice but to ride it with him.

_Wonderful._

I ignore him as much as I'm able to as I step in, inching to the wall furthest from him like he's a man carrying a contagious disease. Of course, he notices.

"Is there a reason you're huddled in the corner, Anastasia?"

There's something in his tone. But I won't look at his face, nor give him the satisfaction. Don't. No.

There he goes, calling me my actual first name again. Why does it have to sound so good, coming from his voice?

"No," I whisper.

"Do elevators make you nervous?"

"No." _But this change you've brought out of me has._

"Then why are you standing so far away?"

"Because I can." I allow myself one fleeting glance, discovering he's watching me speculatively. One hand is deep in his trouser pocket, while the other plays with the tail of his striped tie absently. "Why do you care?"

He shrugs, "I don't."

He licks his lips, moistening them, and for some reason I find it distracting. Out of nowhere, I see his tongue all over me. His mouth. Why is he so hot to me all of a sudden? Disturbing.

"Did you manage to get everything I wanted done today?" Grey asks bluntly.

"Most of it, yeah."

"Are you sure?" His tone turns insultingly skeptical. "Everything?"

I feign coyness. "Are you doubting my capabilities, Sir?" _Asswipe._

Mr. Grey's face darkens dangerously. "There is no need to address me in that manner," he hisses quietly. "I have the right to ask about these things. I need to know."

"Then don't address _me_ that way either."

He stares me down, but I don't look away. He might intimidate people to get what he wants but I refuse to be one of them. Just my luck, we reach the ground floor and he finally turns away from me as the elevator opens. Huffing under my breath, I dash hurriedly out towards the entrance, bashing my shoulder into his elbow. It's raining heavily outside the building. Thank goodness I brought my jacket and umbrella with me today. Mr. Grey is hot on my heels.

"How are you getting home? Do you live near here?"

There's no way in hell I'm telling him where I live. He's my boss and I know realistically it's safe for him to know, he's no rapist or murderer but still, no way. I live with Kate and our house is messy. I don't want him thinking he's entitled to look around my house or enter my bedroom.

"I have an umbrella. I'm fine."

"You walk to work?" He's outraged, when really it's none of his beeswax. "Why don't you have a car to get yourself here? You're a big girl, aren't you? Shouldn't you have a car by now?"

"Well, unlike some people, we can't afford expensive cars."

"I'll drop you home then," he says, sounding determined on doing that. "My car is just-"

"No," I murmur loudly. "Just no. I appreciate the offer but no. Thank you."

When I glance up at him, I realize he looks deeply offended by my flat-out refusal. His mouth parts and I get the terrible feeling he is about to raise his voice at me, but instead, he takes the smart option in order not to get my quick defenses up around him. He nods curtly, turns on his heel, and walks away briskly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much! Hope you enjoy this one! As usual, I own nothing to do with 50 Shades, I'm just having a blast writing Ana/Christian as my first fanfiction. Sorry about the cliffie, I promise I'll update as soon as I can. In the meantime, feel free to let me know your thoughts. Thank you! :)**

* * *

_**Chapter 4**_

Once I finish the walk home, I'm soaked. I barge into the front door where I live with Kate, my heels squelching and my hair dripping. The umbrella I had with me hadn't seemed to help at all with water coverage. I feel like a drowned rat.

"God, Ana," Kate says sadly as she stands by the doorway. "You're all wet!"

"Well, it_ is_ raining outside, Captain Obvious."

"How was work?" she asks me, helping me out of my wet jacket and hanging it up on the rack.

"Same old crap."

"Are you having trouble with Asshole Grey again?" Often, I bitch to Kate about my boss and all the ridiculous things he gets me to do for him. Kate agrees and feels he's being completely unfair on me.

"God, Kate, you have no idea. He dared to comment on the way I was dressed today. How rude is that?"

She blinks down at my drenched clothes, uncomprehending. "What's wrong with how you dress?"

"No idea, but he clearly has a problem with it. He told me to show up tomorrow wearing brighter colors, so I look less depressing."

"What a shit-bag," she exclaims in frustration.

"I know, right?"

"Yes, he's your boss, but... that doesn't mean he's entitled to comment on what you wear!"

"I know. My thoughts exactly." I let out a gigantic sigh of relief. Sometimes it feels so cleansing to have somebody like Kate around, who also shares my frustrations. I think that's partly reason why I consider her my best friend. "But, in all things considered, he's not... that bad. He's all right."

"Wait... what?" I know I've put my foot in it, when Kate stares at me incredulously. "What the hell, Ana? Are we even talking about the same Asshole Grey here? What made you change your tune so suddenly? I mean, you're always moaning about him to me, about how unfair he is with you? And, now, you're telling me he isn't so bad? Which is it, really?"

Oh, Crap. "I'm just saying that... maybe I've been a little too harsh on my judgement of him."

She scrutinizes me speculatively. I don't want her knowing what happened today in his office. It's too embarrassing. Mainly, the most embarrassing fact about it, is that I liked it. It turned me on. It actually turned me on, what Asshole Grey did to me, and I know that isn't exactly a sane response.

"Do you like him? Are you... attracted to him?"

I distract her by heading into the kitchen, pretending to be busy. "Kate, enough talk. I'm starving." I keep my face purposefully hidden from her while I grab some ingredients out of the fridge to make a salad sandwich. Her question is confusing. Am I attracted to Mr. Grey? Do I like him? I don't know the answer to that, and I wish she wouldn't ask. "Do you want me to make you a sandwich, too?"

"Ana, I asked you a question. Are you attracted to him? Don't ignore me." Damn it, Kate's always like this. So pushy for answers. So meddling.

"Gross, Kate, I can't believe you just asked me that!"

"Ana, answer my question. Do you have the hots for your boss now?"

"Fine, so I don't think he's as bad as I usually do," I admit to her truthfully, seeing as I know there is no way in getting out of it. "I don't know why or how that changed, but I just... I don't know. I kind of... think he's attractive, yet gross at the same time. I hate him, I think he's totally unreasonable with me, but at the same time, he's... all right. Does that make any sense to you?"

"Uh, not really," she snorts. "I don't get it, Ana. At all."

"We talked today, and I think I've come to understand him a little. He told me he hasn't had a girlfriend before. Can you believe that?" I sure can't believe it but he looked and sounded sincere while confessing that startling little titbit to me.

"Uh, yeah, I can actually, considering all the shit you've told me about him. He orders you around all day, to the point where you come home crashing on the couch with aching feet. He almost makes you break down into exhausted tears. Believe me, I would know. I've put up with you like this for the past three months, Ana. He sounds like a total dirtball, yet you're telling me you think he's hot despite him exhausting you and working you to the bone?"

I flush and turn away from the carrot I'm grating to look at her. "I never said I thought he was hot, Kate. I never said that!"

"Well, you kind of didn't need to. I can tell."

"How?" I ask her doubtfully. "How can you possibly tell how I'm feeling? That I think Asshole Grey is hot, no less?"

"Because I'm your best friend, Ana. I can read you like a book. It isn't that hard."

Oh, wow. Am I that transparent? I think I would just about die if anyone else noticed I think Grey is grossly hot. Besides it was very considerate of him to offer me a lift home. I don't know why he cared to, but still, it was considerate of him. He isn't so much of a conceited asshole, after all.

"I accidentally asked him if he was gay." I cringe at the memory, while Kate bursts out laughing. "I'm surprised he didn't fire me straight on the spot!"

"Do you flirt with him?"

"At work? As if!"

"Do you want to, you know, have sex with him?"

I feel my face go lobster red at this sudden dangerous turn of our conversation. I know Kate's doing it to mostly be playful for a good laugh, but it's in bad-taste, I feel. "Gross, no," I tell her. "You have a warped mind, Kate. Don't talk about things like that."

"I'm the one with the warped mind? You're the one with the crush, Ana."

"Crush?" I spit out at her, my voice rising. "There's no crush. Frankly, I'm insulted that you assume I have developed a crush on Asshole Grey. It's disgusting."

"Whatever," she laughs, in a tone that tells me she doesn't believe me. "Deny it all you want. Anyway, I think it's about time you were interested in a guy. I mightn't approve of the choice, but... it's good."

"I'm not interested in Mr. Grey. Not sexually, nor romantically. He hardly would ever be interested in me, anyway."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Look at me," I say, flapping my arms around. "There's nothing special about me, Kate."

"You know that's bullshit," she mutters, looking at me with consternation. "Don't go putting yourself down like that. If Asshole Grey isn't interested, then it just proves how much of an asshole he truly is."

"Who says I wish he was interested in me? It's not like I'm desperate, or like I want him to be interested. He's my boss and... he's gross. I just don't think he's as bad as I initially did, that's all." And, truth be told, I wouldn't object to more office action with him, too.

"Well, okay. If you say so." Fortunately, Mr. Grey as subject of our conversations end there. "Oh, and by the way, Jose called. He wants us to head out tomorrow night, since it is a Friday and you don't have to work all weekend. Are you down for it? I know he wants to spend time with you."

Kate is often trying to get me and Jose to hook up, but honestly, he just doesn't do anything for me. We've known each other since we were six, and the days of our youth when we made mud-cakes together is still imprinted in my mind. He's more like a brother to me, than anything. Trying to date Jose is just...plain weird and gross to me. I've always wondered if there was something wrong with me. Kate fears I'm asexual or that I'm missing some vital gene that makes me attracted to men and see them as potential boyfriends. Maybe there is something wrong with me? Maybe I really am investing too much time swooning over tortured literature heroes, and it's warped me when it comes to realistic expectations?

"I don't know if I'll be up for it tomorrow night. We'll see how I feel after getting through work first."

After I've finished my salad sandwich for dinner, I attempt to get an early night's sleep. It turns out to be incredibly difficult as my head won't quit racing. Thoughts of what happened today with Mr. Grey plague my mind, causing me to be restless in the sheets. I just can't understand why I'm feeling the way I am. He has royally gone and fucked up my mind. All I know is that I'm hell-bent on honoring his request to wear brighter clothes tomorrow; Something sexy and outrageous to tempt him.

But in order to do that, I'll have to raid Kate's wardrobe.

* * *

Under Kate's guidance in the morning, she helps me with my outfit.

Just like he wanted, my clothes are a splash of color. To the point of clashing, but that's okay. Kate lets me wear one of her blouses, which is satin and sunshine yellow, a navy blue tube skirt that just only reaches mid-thigh, and a pair of three-inch stilettos which are fire engine red. I feel a tad ridiculous at first, but Kate assures me I look great. She even manages to convince me into leaving the two top buttons of the blouse open to get some cleavage going.

_If this doesn't get me called into Grey's office then I don't know what will._

When I step into work, I'm buzzing with anticipation. I'm dying to see what Mr. Grey's reaction will be, probably pathetically so.

I prepare his coffee and can only hope my hair is still neat and the red lipstick I'm wearing isn't smeared as I knock on his office door once before entering.

"You can come in," he calls, his voice full of professionalism. "Don't just stand there."

_All right, here it goes... Try to look sexy, Steele._

I push my way into his office, adding a little sway to my hips as I walk.

I find Mr. Grey behind his desk, talking on his cell to someone. He's so absorbed that he doesn't look up at me while I approach his desk, his cup of coffee gripped tightly in both of my hands. He grimaces at something the person on the other line says, lifting his hand and running his fingers through his hair. "Well, I don't know what to do, Flynn," he mutters, sounding uncharacteristically stressed. "The urges have returned... It's driving me crazy..." He laughs suddenly, still not taking notice of me while I stand directly in front of his desk. "I've tried that... It doesn't seem to help with the urges..." Finally, at last, he looks up and pays attention. He makes a silent motion with his hand, indicating for me to put his coffee down as he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "Exercise doesn't help, Flynn. Nor does the position in my job anymore. It doesn't give me the same release... I need to find someone special who knows and understands, and likes the requirements for being with me."

His eyes don't stray from me as I bend my knees a little, making sure he catches a glimpse of some cleavage through my blouse. I mightn't have much but it seems enough. I savor the moment as I hear Mr. Grey hiss through his teeth.

"Uh, Flynn, we'll have to postpone this conversation for later. Thank you, and bye." He hangs up abruptly and sets his phone on the desk, as I straighten up to my full height. I relish the heated and appraising look in his eyes as he inspects me carefully.

"Morning, Mr. Grey," I murmur breathlessly. "So I took up your suggestion..."

He folds his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, his head tilted to the side. "Yes, I can see that, Miss. Steele." His voice sounds off. An octave lower. "Very good."

_And it's obvious that's all I'm going to get for now... Damn it._

I stare into his eyes, i_mp_loring him to do something, anything, to me._ Get your ass out of that chair, _I want to scream._ Do with me as you did yesterday, asswipe! I can't be the only one who wants it again!_

Feeling deflated and much like a dog with it's tail behind it's legs, I turn to leave. But just as I'm halfway there, he finally takes the moment to speak up.

"Close the door, Miss. Steele." It's so quiet and low I almost think I've just imagined it. But then he says, louder, "I said, close the door, Miss. Steele." My body seizes up as I hear him stand from his chair and move over to the glass window of his office. He pulls down the white Venetian blinds and scrolls them closed so none of my colleagues can see in while I obediently shut the door quietly. "Now _tell_ me."

I turn to glance at him while clenching my hands into fists. It's darker in the room but I can still see him standing there. If I'm not mistaken, he appears a little apprehensive. "Tell you what, Sir?" I blab out in sheer confusion. _Gosh, is he going to do something to me or not?_

"Yesterday," he says impatiently.

"Er... what about it?"

Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair, stepping closer to me. He shoves one hand in his trouser pocket, the other dangling at his side, fingers twitching. "Yesterday in here, what happened," he whispers, his lips pressing into a thin line gravely. "Am I going to have any trouble?"

_Any trouble? Huh? Oh, he assumes I'm going to file a lawsuit on him. M__oral turpitude, sexual harassment, whatever._

"No, no trouble. If anything, I wouldn't mind it happening again." I laugh nervously, flushing. Mr. Grey's reaction to that is not at all what I'm expecting. At first he looks revolted, then shocked just as quickly.

"You... you _what_?"

I can't help but smile at how disarmed he is. "You heard me, Mr. Grey."

He regards me suspiciously for a second, as if paranoid I'm playing a trick. Then with a slight shake of his head, he glances down at my legs in my skirt, moistening his lips with his tongue. "Very well. Too short," he mutters with disapproval. "Something only a bad girl wears, and that is very bad of you. We're going to have to do something about that, aren't we?"

_Yes, it's definitely going to happen between us again._


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you all so much! I hope this one isn't a let-down!**

* * *

_**Chapter Five**_

"I did say that I would do what I did if you were bad enough again, didn't I? That it would happen again if you were bad?"

"Yes."

I swallow thickly, watching him as he slowly strips out of his pin-striped suit jacket. He moves around me to drape his jacket over his chair and then he takes his slow, sweet time, in unbuttoning the cufflinks of his white business shirt._ Why is he undoing them?_

"So let's get to it then." He's distracted with folding up the sleeves of his shirt over his elbows. "You know what to do, Miss. Steele."_ Oh, yes, I believe I do, if it'll be anything like before._

Without any thought, I assume the position like yesterday in his office; Putting my hands in the middle of his desk, leaning over slightly, my elbows touching the hard wood and with my spine curved and my backside in the air to him. I expect him to come closer to me, to hold his arms around me, to do what he did to me yesterday, only... he doesn't. He stands there, watching me and examining the way my body is positioned over his desk. He makes no move to start and I find myself hoping I don't seem too overeager.

"Oh." Suddenly I feel idiotic and I feel myself reddening. "I... I thought you were going to do with me what you did yesterday? Um, dry-humping me?"

"No," he says, something in his voice sending shivers all over me. "What you will learn very quickly about me, Miss. Steele, is that I like to spice things up. I never do something twice in a row. Now, spread your legs a shoulder's width apart."

_What? Spread my legs?_

"Er, what Sir?"

He moves behind me slowly, out of eyesight, and I feel my heart racing.

"Spread your legs a shoulder's width apart, Miss. Steele, like you're holding a baseball bat and are ready to take aim, but keep your palms flat on the desk," he says casually by way of explanation, and I feel one of his shoes go in between the space of my legs as he uses the tip of it to coax them widely open. I shuffle my heels further apart, using my hands more for balance on his desk so that I don't fall over, which would be embarrassing. I don't really know what is going on or what to expect, I don't know what he'll do to me this time around, but... the suspense is oddly exciting. "Tell me something. Do you enjoy working for me?"

My head spins at the sudden topic of conversation he has decided to bring up. He wants to_ talk now_, in a time like this, while I'm standing leaning over his desk, waiting eagerly for it all to finally begin?

It takes me a second to get my head straight. "It has its moments, working for you. Frankly, I find you a pain in the ass most of the time."

I realize my slip-up when he suddenly goes super quiet behind me. I bite down on my lip with my front teeth, listening carefully. I have no idea what he's doing behind me, or how he is taking that. But then he says quietly, with an unfamiliar edge to his tone, "I'm a pain in the ass, huh?"

"Yes. You are."

"Like _this_?"

I hear the sudden movement from behind me, and then all I'm aware of next, is... pain. His hand strikes me, directly in the center of my backside through the fabric of Kate's skirt she let me borrow for the day, and my entire body tenses. My eyes widen in shock as I stare down at my hands, fingers splayed and trembling, on the dark polished wood of his desk. _Shit, did he just spank me?_ _Did he really just spank me like a little girl gets spanked for doing something wrong?_ I haven't been spanked in years and, I must say, it's weirdly... enjoyable. I hear his breathing change- it's louder, uncontrolled. I'm pretty sure he's turned on by this, and maybe I am, too. Gritting my teeth, I turn my head to the side to look at him questioningly over my shoulder. He's watching me, something dark and heated in his eyes. For some reason, I think he looks very attractive, with his sleeves folded up to his elbows and his hand in the air, ready to do it again.

"Is that what you were saying? I'm a pain in the ass like that, Miss. Steele?"

"No, I was speaking figuratively," I breathe out unsteadily and then, without bothering to prepare me for it whatsoever, he does it again, harder this time.

The slap resounds through his quiet office, and I accidentally whimper. I turn away from him quickly so he can't see the pain on my face. I don't want to seem weak, nor give him the satisfaction of knowing his spankings are getting to me. It hurts, my backside is already thrumming where his palm came into contact with the skin, but it isn't unbearable. The pain, I can deal with. So can I the bruises, which I'm sure will come later. I'm certain I won't be able to walk or sit down at my desk properly after this, but I don't care right now. I'm too excited, too in-the-moment, with Mr. Grey. It just would have been nice for him to warn me beforehand, so I know what to expect.

"Shall I continue or have you had enough now, Miss. Steele?"

He's only spanked me _twice_. I think I can handle a little more being dished out by him. I'm not_ that_ weak and fragile.

"No, I'm not nearly enough done yet, Mr. Grey," I tell him defiantly, spurred on by the adrenaline racing through my veins. I feel like I'm on a dangerous ride, like I'm driving high speeds in a car, or sky-diving off a tall building. It's thrilling and the feeling is... liberating. Addictive. I feel as if I can't get enough.

"Tell me why it is that I'm doing this to you," he orders unevenly.

"Because I've been bad," I answer breathlessly.

"And how have you been bad, Miss. Steele?" There's something in his voice that I discover I love, while he's like this. It's hard, authoritative, like he truly is the boss, or my master, and I'm someone completely at his will, under his beck-and-call. Right now, he's pulling the strings, and I'm getting punished for being out-of-line. And something about that is oddly sexy and arousing to me. Erotic. I don't know whether that means I'm abnormal or strange, but I don't mind it. He's dominating me, he's being in-charge. And I'm enjoying it.

"Because the skirt I'm wearing is too short, and you don't like that when it comes to me?" I guess, my voice embarrassingly croaky and high-pitched.

"Very good, Miss. Steele."

He sends another slap, this time over my left buttock, and I steady myself against the desk. I feel my face scrunching up and my eyes sting, but I force myself to stare ahead and ride it out determinedly. I fix my eyes on the coffee filled near the rim in his cup, the one I just made him, as a distraction. I won't let him hear me cry out, or let him know I'm becoming uncomfortable. It'll only give him more incentive, and the bastard doesn't deserve it. I am not weak, and pain is nothing.

"Tell me when you feel you've had enough," he breathes in a throaty voice, slapping me again, this time on my right buttock. He's spreading the pain around, mixing it up, so I'll be completely sore. Now, when I sit at my desk, I will be reminded of what happened. But I don't mind; A little pain never killed anyone, did it?

"You're good at this, Mr. Grey," I get out through my laboured breathing. "Do you do this very often?"

I can't help but get the impression that he has. But then again, he _did_ tell me he hasn't ever had a girlfriend before. Could this be why? He likes spanking, and dry-humping, and all those other odd things? Maybe the women he has tried to date have been frightened off by that, and found Mr. Grey a little... eccentric due to his kinky sexual proclivities, like spanking?

"In my wildest dreams I have, Anastasia."

I blink at the black liquid in his cup, processing that. "Just in your dreams? Not in... in real life with a woman?" He certainly seems experienced at this.

"No. Never in real life, like this."

He slaps me again, I watch the coffee in his cup tremor like a little earthquake is shaking his desk, and something new begins to grow inside of me. It isn't a feeling I have experienced very often. I have experienced it, once or twice before, while watching titillating love scenes in movies with Kate on the couch. Heat radiates from my neck downwards. Something pleasant stirs within my stomach. Warmth and tingling sensations begin from right _down... there_. Moisture. Wetness.

"I'll be frank with you: This is probably why I have never had a girlfriend. I've tried to date a couple of times, only it never worked out. They were too... frightened by the idea of having an unconventional relationship with me."

I can hardly make sense of his words. The only thing I can seem to hear and acknowledge is how heavy my breathing is getting. It's the only thing I can properly hear in his office. The noises I'm making. "Because this floats your boat?" I can barely muster the energy to speak coherently enough for him to hear me. "You like to... to spank women and punish them? Is... is that why?" God, I can hardly breathe.

"Yes, that is precisely why," he says hoarsely.

He sends another slap on my backside and I close my eyes tightly, trying to calm down. I tense, breathing deeply through my nostrils, waiting for the next one to come, and I know, beyond a doubt, that the next one will completely set me off for good, like a grenade. I'm physically, mentally, and emotionally drained, dying for a release.

_And then it finally comes..._

With this blow, something happens to me. My body shakes like a leaf rustling in the wind on a tree branch, my ears explode with the sound of my heartbeat pounding, and a glorious wave of immediate and intense pleasure overtakes me.

"Let me hear you," he says gently from behind me, and I just do.

"Oh," I moan out, instantly feeling drained.

And then, as if finding his own release after giving me both physical pain and pleasure, Mr. Grey sags against me from behind exhaustedly, his arms coming around me and his hands resting on the desk near mine, but carefully not touching. He doesn't let himself touch me, although he surrounds me and despite collapsing literally on me. I feel the heat of him everywhere and his shallow panting tickles the strands of my hair sitting on the back of my shoulders.

"Are you okay after all that, Miss. Steele?" He speaks up, still panting hard into my hair, after what feels like a lifetime.

My senses gradually come back to me; The pounding of my heart in my ears recedes and fades away, but the dampness is still present, the heat.

"I... I think so," I whisper slowly. But then, I'm instantly filled with confusion and worry for my state of mind, yet again, like I was yesterday, after having found pleasure in what he did to me. I don't understand how I can possibly feel this way, really. He was causing me physical pain, in spanking me. It wasn't overly painful, just the right amount of painful, and yet... it aroused me to the point of having an orgasm- the first one a man has ever really given me before. Does that mean I'm masochistic? Crazy? "I... I don't know what's wrong with me, though."

"What do you mean? There is nothing wrong with you."

"I... I think there is."

I sense, rather than feel, him moving away from me. His face comes into view as he leans against the desk beside where I'm still stuck and seemingly unable to move, but I can't endure looking at him after what just happened with me. I stare back at the untouched coffee in his cup on the desk again instead, because it's easier that way. Mostly, I fear moving and how stiff and sore my ass is going to be. As for right now, if I remain as still as possible, I can't feel it yet.

"What's wrong with you, Miss. Steele?" he asks, concern for me showing in his soft tone. It's touching, really. But I don't know where to start on explaining.

"I just... I don't understand. I felt... I don't know."

"Sexually aroused?" he finishes for me, seeming to know exactly what I'm trying to say. I feel my ear lobes flush with heat. Still, I can't endure looking at him.

"Yes," I admit, feeling a tight lump form in my throat. "I did, and I... Well, I think you gathered what just happened for me. I liked what you did to me; the spanking and the tolerable pain. It made me feel alive. Real, in a sense. Does that make me abnormal or a sexual deviant?"

He's silent for several moments, and finally, I find my courage again. I peer over at him, and he's staring at his shoes, his expression giving nothing away. He crosses his arms and uses his fingers on his left hand to rub around the space between his eyes.

"I have often asked myself that same question, Miss. Steele." Mr. Grey's voice is quiet, thoughtful. "I've often wondered if there was something... wrong with me, because of how I feel. Why am I like this? Why do I... feel the way I do when doing certain things, or seeing certain things, when others seem to believe it's wrong or... disgusting." Finally, he glances at me quickly, and there is a tight, rueful smile on his lips. "But someone who I trust and often confide in once told me, that, there is no right or wrong when it comes to these things. We are all... built differently. We all like different things, when it comes to what gets us off. We all have preferences for certain things, and all that matters is... finding someone who you are compatible with, who sees it in the same way that you do and likes it also. Someone who won't judge you and feels the same way."

"But were you... aroused too?" I struggle to maintain his gaze as I ask this, but he doesn't seem to mind.

"I was. Absolutely." He laughs suddenly in astonishment. He has a nice laugh, one I find I like the sound of. "Truth is, I have always been... very fond of you, Miss. Steele. I think that is ultimately why I hired you. There is just something different about you, compared to all the other girls; You have a smart mouth, you're not afraid to put me in my place and say what is on your mind, and... in here, it's refreshing, yet simultaneously frustrating to me. I just haven't known all the right ways to... approach."

_My God. He's very fond of me? _Considering all the ways he has treated me the past three months, I would have thought otherwise. I thought he hated me, and that that was the sole reason why he bossed me around. But it's nice to know.

**I hope this wasn't a let down? I'm sorry. Thank you all so much, I get incredibly nervous about updating, as I've never done this before but you're all so welcoming and lovely. So thank you! :) P.S: I hope you don't mind that I have changed Christian's history, there is no Elena, no other subs. He's just a man struggling to find the right woman who desires to share a BDSM relationship with, and I intend to make Ana and Christian enter one, despite him being her boss and the issues with that. Hope you don't mind that change, but he'll still have his difficult past in childhood :)  
**


	6. Chapter 6

_**I want to thank you all so much for being so kind. I'm so flattered and shocked, I never expected to get over 100 reviews even, so that's pretty shocking to me. Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one ;)**_

_**Chapter Six**_

Although minutes have probably passed from the last strike he gave me to my backside, I'm still unable to move. I know I should move. I should stop leaning over his desk, how I was, while he did it, but I'm unable to. My backside has started stinging, in all the areas he spanked me in, and I know beyond anything that today is going to be particularly hard to get through. I won't be able to sit at my work station without it hurting. I won't be able to walk without limping. But for some reason, I feel almost glad. I feel revived and energized. I feel an unfathomable sense of joy that he is reason why my backside is hurting. Now everywhere I go, the pain will be a reminder of him, until it heals.

"How are you feeling?" he asks me after a moment, his eyes filled with concern. At least he isn't ordering me out of his office- not yet, anyway- and is being sympathetic to how I'm feeling.

"I think I'll survive, Mr. Grey. My ass is stinging, though."

"Well, what do you expect?" His voice is singing with pride. "Of course, it hurts. But you should have told me if it was becoming too much on you."

"It wasn't becoming too much on me," I tell him, and it's true. It wasn't even nearly enough. "I could have handled a bit more. I'm just not looking forward to getting out of your office and sitting down at my desk all day, especially not with a sore ass now. But, as I just said, I'll survive." What he just told me comes back to me, in a gushy warmth. _He's always been very fond of me. _Finally accepting what happened and how bad it's going to hurt, I force myself to straighten up slowly from his desk, wincing from the soreness of my behind. But I know I most definitely will survive, and it isn't that painful. "What you said to me just then, is it true?"

"About what, Miss Steele? I can't remember what I just said to you."

Wrapping my arms over my chest, I turn and gently lean my side against his desk to face him, carefully ignoring where I know it will hurt most. "Have you really always been fond of me?"

He seems a bit uncomfortable by my question. He looks away before meeting my eyes again, scrutinizing my face carefully. "I have, yes. I wouldn't have said that otherwise."

"But you've never given me any indication that you have?"

"Would that really have been appropriate? I'm your boss, after all. It would hardly be a professional thing for me to do."

I find it so hard to believe. I always thought he hated me, so he always annoyed me on purpose with all of his ridiculous demands. "And all that you've done to me is appropriate or professional?" I ask him, raising my brow. "Is spanking me while I bend over your desk really something appropriate for a boss to do to their employee?"

He winces slightly at my words, and I get the impression he's worried I'm going to report him, when I'm not. I'm just... trying to understand what is going on here between us. "I know it's wrong, believe me. This could end badly, for both of us. But I thought you enjoyed it?"

"I did enjoy it. I mightn't understand why, but I do. Do you do this to any of the other employees in your firm? Have you done what you did to me to any of the others?"

"No, I haven't, nor am I interested in doing it to them."

_So, he hasn't done it to any of my other colleagues. Why just me, though? What makes me so different from all the rest?_

"Why just me then, Mr. Grey?"

"I can't answer that," he says simply. "All I know is that I have always been fond of you, and... it makes me want to do what I want to do- the spanking, etc- with only you. Now, more than ever, considering your reaction to it. You didn't react the way I was expecting."

"How were you expecting me to react, Mr. Grey?"

"I suppose I..." He stops suddenly, and I look over at him. There's something there in his voice. I think it's regret, or shame. He looks troubled as he runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly. "I suppose I expected you to react like all the other women I have had briefly come into my life."

"What other women?"

"The other women that I tried to date. My mother can be a very meddling woman. She has tried to set me up on dates with several women, but... they found me too peculiar for their liking. One woman, the last date I ever had before I gave up completely two years ago; everything appeared as if it was actually going well. We had similar interests and goals. But when I took her back to my place, she got frightened off when I suggested tying her to the bed with rope. She was offended and she called me a sick, sick perverted man and told me to get therapy. I am in therapy, I talk to someone on a regular basis, but it hasn't helped any with the urges I have."

_Ouch, that's harsh, calling him sick and perverted. But he suggested tying her up to his bed with rope? Wow, that's hot._

"I turned them off by how I am, and what I like to do. I expected you to react the same way after what happened, only that you would take it further, in a legal standpoint. I expected you to sue me for sexual harassment, or something along those lines." He gives me a small, apologetic smile as he lifts a hand to rub his fingers over his chin. "I was very shocked to find that wasn't the case and that you actually didn't mind what happened when I did what I did after calling you into my office. In fact, last night, I found it very difficult to sleep because of it. I know what I did was wrong, and it was very unprofessional of me and, for that, I sincerely apologize for my behaviour yesterday."

"Don't apologize. As I said before, you won't be getting any trouble from me. I won't be telling anyone." Even if I could, I wouldn't want to. I definitely wouldn't ever tell Kate, who is supposed to be my best friend.

He raises his eyebrows as he eyes me speculatively. "Why wouldn't you tell? What I did to you was way out-of-line."

"Because I don't think you would want me to, would you? It would kind of put both our jobs in jeopardy, and I don't want that for you...or for me. And, let's face it, I think my reaction just then after you finished spanking me confirms that I like it just as much as you do. I'm not going to tell anyone anything when I liked it, too."

Mr. Grey is silent for a few minutes. When I look up at him, he looks thoughtful, as if he is turning something over and over inside his head, while he traces his bottom lip with his forefinger absently. When he finally looks my way again, he studies my face with wary eyes. "You liked it, too?"

"I did, but you already know that I liked it."

"And you're not just saying that? You're not just lying to me and pretending, like it's all a phony act to you?"

I almost laugh at that ridiculous question. "I'm not pretending, about any of it," I assure him strongly. "And, even if I was, you'd see straight through me within a minute. I can't act to save my life. Why do you find it so hard to believe?"

"Because, as I just told you, my past experience with women when it comes to this wasn't so positive. I was starting to feel that I was insane, that I would never find someone like me who likes it as well. You cannot imagine how long I have waited for a woman like you to come along, Miss Steele."

The intensity in his voice takes my breath away, and I can do nothing else but believe him. He has waited very long for a woman who likes to be spanked, and doesn't see it as anything abnormal or something that signals the man wanting to be the hand who does it is deranged or mentally ill inside the head.

"What if we went down this road together?" He asks me, his eyes shining with apprehension and his voice soft. "You and I?"

"What road are you talking about exactly?"

"Well, you liked getting spanked by me, and it is certainly no secret that I liked spanking you. The thing I have always wanted most in the world, was to be in a relationship with a woman, like this, and for her not to judge me as some kind of freak. It is something I have always dreamed about. Being in a relationship like this... where I give out the punishments, I'm the one in control, and the woman I'm with actually likes it and is turned on by it to some extent. Will you be that woman, Miss Steele?"

I flush as his words slowly sink into my brain. _Is he asking me out? Or is he at least asking me to be in a relationship with him, where I get spanked all the time and he punishes me?_

"Wait a minute. Are you actually asking me out? Am I hearing this right?" I ask him, hearing the disbelief in my own voice myself. "Are you sure that would even be such a good idea? You're my boss, after all, and... I don't think it's professionally moral for an employee and employer to date, is it? If someone found out about this, then they-"

"You just told me you wouldn't tell anyone," he cuts me off quietly. "And, despite the bad consequences that could come along with this, I trust you. Of course, we couldn't tell anyone about this. This would have to be kept confidential, something just between you and me. You just assured me that you would never disclose of this to anyone?"

"That's true, and I wouldn't. I'm just not so sure it would be such a great idea. How can we date and not let that affect our working life?" I ask him. Mr. Grey stares at me for a moment, then looks away, mulling my question over seriously.

"We wouldn't be dating, per se, Miss Steele." I hate the disappointment that dares to infect me over that. I have no idea why I feel that way over it. "I'm really not the dating type. I have never been in a relationship with a woman before, but what I do hope... is to be in a relationship with you, where we do all of this kinky stuff."

"What else is there? Or is it just spanking?"

I think Mr. Grey is surprised by my question. He actually laughs. "I'm not experienced with this, but I have read about the subject and it is something that very much appeals to me. Aside from the spanking, there is also bondage... handcuffs... whipping and chaining. Plenty more of it. I have never been in a relationship like this myself, but hopefully we can learn from each other and discover it all together."

_Oh, bondage. Handcuffs. Whipping and chaining? It seems pretty extreme._

"And the idea of being in a relationship like that turns you on the most, Mr. Grey?" I ask him uncertainly. I'm trying to understand.

"It does."

So him spanking me was very exciting, but... I wouldn't know how I would go with everything else. I never even knew relationships like this existed in the real world.

"I have known, since I was sixteen, that this type of lifestyle appeals to me. I researched it on the internet when I was sixteen and found that there were like-minded individuals like myself who have actually had successful and fulfilling relationships based around this. All I need is the right woman who seems open to the idea and is willing to try it with me. Someone who won't judge me or call me a perverted bastard due to it. With you, I was starting to feel as if I have found the right one. Was I right, Anastasia? Or have I misjudged everything with you?"

There are other couples living this way? I don't even know what it is that he wants from me, exactly.

"What happens if I agree to this? What will we do? How will it be like?

"Well, ideally, you would surrender yourself to me, in all capacities. You'll be my Submissive."

Submissive? "I'm hardly submissive when it comes to you, though, Sir."

"But you can learn. I want to be in control of you. I'll tell you what to do, and you must obey, otherwise you will get punished by me, in the form of spanking and other various ways. It's called being a Dom, or a... Master."

Oh. So he'll boss me around like he already does at work except it'll be extended to non-working hours now?

"Okay, so it'll practically be like how it already is now, except you'll be doing it outside of work too?"

"In a sense, yes, it'll be exactly like that. Except, hopefully with your consent, there will be sex involved also, and you'll feel it is just as fulfilling and exciting as I will. Are you willing to try it with me?"

He sounds almost hopeful, like he really wishes I'll give it a try. But my head is too conflicted. On one hand, it sounds exciting and tempting. I would like to try. But then... there are so many complications that could arise out of this. He's my boss, and wouldn't it be like special treatment? If anyone found out, any of my work colleagues, they would probably dob on us and something might happen. We might risk losing our jobs, and Mr. Grey could be accused for taking advantage of his position as my boss. Then, there is the issue of me becoming too attached... It wouldn't be very good of me if I fell for him.

"I know it isn't the most suitable thing to be doing here, Anastasia," Mr. Grey continues, as if sensing my hesitation, "But I very much would like for you to consider it. I have a feeling we can make each other both very happy, if we go down this path of exploration together. And, if it doesn't work out, I can assure you your position here in my firm wouldn't be on the line. I won't fire you, if this turns sour."

I'm still unsure. It sounds very thrilling, but there is still so many things at risk. "Can I have the weekend to think about it?" I ask him.

"Of course you can. Take however long you need. There is really no rush."

I can't believe I'm actually considering it. No sane person would want to do this with their boss, surely. But right now, I don't care whether I'm sane or not.

"I can print off a few pages off the internet from some websites I have found very informative, if you'd like? For research and more information so that you understand what you would be agreeing to?" Mr. Grey asks.

"Yes, please do. It would help a lot."

"Very well. I'll give them to you at the end of the day. Just be sure that no one else sees it and reads it." There's a moment of silence that passes between us where he just stares at me, and I wait for him to say something else to me. But then he says, with an amused edge in his voice that I haven't heard from him before, "All right, we're done. You have my permission to leave my office now, Anastasia."

_Oh, of course. I should be working. Forgetful dumbass!_

"I've noticed you call me Anastasia quite often recently, Sir," I tell him, moving slowly to the door. Every time I walk a step, I feel an ache pulsing through my backside. It's definitely going to hurt a lot more as the hours go by today.

"Anastasia is your name, isn't it?" That rare humour and amusement is still there in his voice and, as I turn around to look at him, he looks it just as well. The look suits him very well.

"It is. Does that mean I can call you by yours? Christian?"

Just as I'm starting to warm up to this playful look on him, it suddenly vanishes and he looks like my usual stern and uptight boss again. "No, you may not call me by my name."

"Oh?" I don't know whether to be insulted. "And why not? I never gave you permission to call me by mine?"

"That is because I am your boss, and subsequently I don't need permission to address you by your first name," he says, his eyes narrowing at me. "Call me Mr. Grey or Sir. It's how I like it."

"I've never liked my name, Mr. Grey," I admit to him, "And yet you insist on calling me it."

"Then what would you prefer I call you instead?"

"Ana. It's what all my closest friends call me, and I prefer that."

"Very well, Ana. Get back to work."

I really don't need to be told twice. As I slip quietly out of his office, I can't help grinning to myself as I take it one careful step at a time, walking towards my work station. I meet Olivia's eyes- one of the women I get along well with- and she casts me a pitiful look as I pull out my chair and sit gingerly. She evidently thinks Mr. Grey just yelled at me, when really, it was far from that.

I'm just getting started on my work when she pops up behind my chair.

"Are you okay, Ana?" she asks me with concern. "Was Mr. Grey giving you hell? God, he's such an asshole, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he just went mad at me," I lie to her, not really knowing what else to say. "So, er... what are you up to this weekend?"

She smiles at me, pleased by the change in conversation. "I'm visiting my parents. They don't live in Seattle, so I'm going to go visit them for the weekend."

"Cool. Sounds nice."

"What are you up to this weekend?"

"Not much," I say to her. "Just the usual plans really." My phone suddenly rings on my desk, halting our conversations.

"Better answer that in case it's Mr. Grey," Olivia warns me with a sad smile. "He'll get angry if you don't answer."

"Yeah, well. When is he never angry?"

She laughs loudly, because she knows it to be true herself, and I smile at her before leaning over to answer it. Pain shoots through my backside with the movement in my chair. I grit my teeth and shift in my chair uncomfortably. God, I wonder how much more painful it is going to get. "Yes, hello. This is Anastasia Steele speaking?" I say nervously.

"Miss Steele."

_And it's Christian... How am I supposed to work if he's going to interrupt me?_

Swivelling my chair around carefully, I look in the direction of his office window. The blinds are still closed, so I'm unable to see anything. What the hell is he doing calling me?

"Yes, hello, Mr. Grey. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes, actually. On your lunch break, I want you to go over to the vending machine and get out a chocolate bar. Any kind you like. Then, with it in your hand, you will come into my office. Is that understood?" His voice is exactly how it was when he spanked me, and I feel my ears flush with heat.

"Yes, that's understood, Sir. But... why am I buying a chocolate bar exactly?"

Before even so much as getting a reasonable explanation for it, Mr. Grey hangs up on me. I sigh through my teeth in frustration as I slam my phone back down on my desk. _He can be so confusing at times..._ But even although I don't understand where he is going with this, I still catch myself pathetically eyeing the time on my computer screen until the precise moment lunch time arrives. When it does, I slowly rise from my chair, trying to keep my expression as blank as possible against the throbbing pain on my backside._ Yeah, I'm definitely going to bruise..._

"Are you sure you're okay, Ana?" Olivia asks me again, the instance I stand. "You look... sore. Did something happen?"

Something tells me I haven't been very good at hiding it. "Yeah, I just fell over this morning and landed on my behind. I was racing around, getting dressed so I wouldn't be late, and then, before I knew it, I was tripping over the shoes near the front door and landing straight on my ass. It hurt so bad. I've been stiff ever since!"

She nods and I can tell she feels so sorry for me. Fortunately for me, it seems as if Olivia actually believes my fable.

"Well, it's time for my lunch break, so... I'm going to grab something out of the vending machine," I finish lamely, and finally, she returns her attention to her own work.

I approach the vending machine, but I can't figure out what Mr. Grey wants me to get or why he is even demanding I do this, no less. Then it kind of hits me. Oh. Is this a trial? He's ordering me around, like he wants to do for me if we're in the relationship that he wants? Is this what it is all about? I just settle on getting a Snickers bar and make sure no one sees me as I head back into his office discreetly.

I find Mr. Grey behind his desk, as usual, going through some papers. He doesn't glance up as I enter holding the Snickers bar in my left hand, nor does he once I stand near his chair to the right of him. I clear my throat, loud enough so that he knows I'm there, but still, he doesn't look up. What he does do, though, is hold his hand out in the air.

"What, Mr. Grey?" I ask, confused. What is he trying to do?

"Give it to me," he says, and judging by his voice, I know it's an order. Since there is really only one thing I can give him, I figure he means the Snickers. I place it in his hand and he slaps the papers he is reading on his desk while he uses his teeth to tear the Snickers wrapper open. He pulls the wrapper halfway down then holds it in the air towards me while resuming reading again. I can't figure out what he is attempting to do. _Does he want me to eat it or... what? Did he just call me in here so that he could unwrap the Snickers for me?_

He sighs loudly when he realizes I'm just standing there, uncertain and unsure on what he wants from me. "Don't just stare at it, Anastasia. Eat it," he commands, giving the chocolate bar a little wave.

_Oh, so he _does_ want me to eat it after all..._

Reaching over, I go to accept the Snickers bar from him, only he moves it out of my reach.

"Uh-uh, no," he whispers, still not glancing my way. "I hold it, and you eat it."

_He wants me to eat it while he holds it? How degrading._

"I have hands," I point out. "I'm sure I can manage to hold it myself."

"Well, no, _I'm_ the one holding it. Do you have a medical condition or eating disorder?"

I stare at him, stunned. Where on earth did he get that idea from? "Er, no. I don't."

"Then how come I never see you eat anything on your lunch break?" he demands, finally disregarding his paper and turning his eyes on me. Maybe he has watched me more than I realized, without me taking any notice of it? Usually, on my lunch breaks, I just like to have a cup of tea and read. It never occurred to me that someone was watching me before and that they actually noticed how I don't eat.

"I don't know. I guess sometimes I don't feel like eating at work."

"And why not?" God, what is he asking me such tricky questions for?

"I don't know. I just don't."

"Well, now you do. Everyone needs to eat, Anastasia. So eat it." Keeping his grey eyes on mine, he lifts the Snickers up, where it goes near my lips. Just because I can't see anyway out of it, and trying to appear attractive, even while eating, I open my mouth and attempt to gnaw my way through the log of chocolate. I know I'm doing a messy job of it, when peanut crumbs go everywhere on his desk. His eyes hold mine in, something about them rather intimidating. "You need to eat more, especially when you're at work. From now on, you will eat something, do you understand me?" His voice is low and deadly serious. This entire thing is ridiculous; Him feeding me, demanding I eat more. Everything.

I nod once, licking my lips.

"Eat all of it," he says, and he watches the way my mouth moves attentively as I chew and eat my way through the entire Snickers bar awkwardly. It's embarrassing, degrading, and weird. What is he trying to make a point out of?

"Satisfied now?" I ask him, not bothering to hide my annoyance. "It's all gone. I ate the entire Snickers bar. Happy?" But I can't stay irritated for too long. Before I know it, laughter escapes through my lips. I cover my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle the sound. I think Mr. Grey looks surprised by the sound of it coming from me. "God, this is so ridiculous. I can't believe you just made me do that, Mr. Grey. What are you trying to prove?"

He doesn't answer me. Instead, he goes back to reading while scrunching the wrapper up in his hand. Is he dismissing me or what?

"Can I go now or is there something else you want from me?" I ask him outright.

"Yes, you may go now," he says shortly. "Good girl," I think I hear him mutter proudly under his breath.

So if I agree to this, is this how it is always going to be? I'll have to allow him to hand-feed me, or just do anything he asks of me in general, no matter how weird it is? Can I possibly be what he expects me to be? A submissive? I don't even know how to be that. It just feels so unnatural to how I truly am, as a person. I don't know.

When the day finally comes to an end, I find it no surprise to see Christian waiting for me by the elevator. Everyone else has just left for home. It's just us, as it was yesterday, but for some reason, today I feel extra nervous about being alone with him. Probably because of the conversation we had in his office. He smiles at me as I reach the elevator, and I notice he's holding a thick wad of paper in his hands.

"Is that the information you promised to print out for me?" I ask him, and he nods before passing it to me. I look down at the pages he has printed for me. There looks to be probably over a hundred pages. Thank God I have all weekend to properly read through them.

"Make sure you read through everything," he says, as the elevator doors open on our floor. We step in and I'm careful to stick close to one wall, like before. "And, if you have questions after reading it, do feel free to ask me. It's important that you understand, so if you have any questions, we need to communicate about it together. Let me know if there is anything you have any issues with. That's if you _are_ actually going to agree to this, of course."

"Okay," I whisper. "I'll make sure to read it."

"What plans do you have for the weekend?" he asks me unexpectedly, and I try to contain my surprise with some effort. He has never once asked me what my plans were for the weekend before.

"I'm heading out tonight with my friends, Kate and Jose. We're going to have a few drinks together."

"Right." He nods once and I see a peculiar look come into his eyes. "Who is Jose?"

"Oh, he's a friend I've had ever since I was six years old."

I don't know why he cares so much but he gives me a strange look I can't identify. "_He_?"

"Um, yeah. Jose's a male friend."

He grunts at my words and moves his hands up to the collar of his white shirt. He plucks open the buttons of the first two, pulling his collar widely open as if he's been suddenly infected with a fever, and for some reason, my eyes are fixated on the decent amount of toned pectoral and throat muscles showing._ It isn't that hot in here to me?_ He has a light smattering of chest hair- not too much, but just the right amount that you can still see his skin. Very nice.

"Um, so... what are _your_ plans for the weekend, Christian?" I realize my slip-up almost immediately. But, in my defense, I'm too distracted by staring at the visible skin thanks to him loosening his collar. "I meant Mr. Grey, Sir. Sorry."

He chuckles quietly at my attempt of damage-control. "Good save, Ana. But to answer your question, no plans. I have no plans for the weekend."

I force my eyes up to meet his, when I realize I'm rudely staring. The instance I lift my eyes up, his eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks go red. _Way to pretend I wasn't perving on him._ _It was so obvious of me._

"Where do you plan on going?" he asks me and it takes me a good second to realize what he means.

"Oh, I'm not sure yet. Kate never really said whereabouts it was we were planning to go."

I'm relieved and desperate to get away from him once the elevator doors open on the ground floor. Holding the papers he gave me tightly to my chest with my arm, I make the first move to step out. No one's around. Everyone has already left. I've only just exited when I feel Mr. Grey's hand catch my wrist, causing me to stop stock-still. What else can he possibly want from me?

I turn around to face him, and suddenly his hands are on both sides of my face, and he's moving in closer to me. He kisses me, something I'm completely not expecting from him, and it's a very demanding and passionate kiss; one that leaves me winded. One hand moves from my face and he uses it to hold onto my shoulder, keeping me still in place and preventing me from making any attempt of moving. Really, he doesn't need to worry so much. I can't move away or resist him even if I tried.

He's a very good kisser- he knows how to use his lips very well. He sucks my bottom lip in between his, he makes a throaty noise that my body seems to reply to the sound of with tingling sensations all over, and astonishingly it makes me want him so badly. Never have I been kissed like this before, as if a person wants me sexually.

When he suddenly pulls himself away from me and our lips disengage, I feel a loss inside of me, like something terrible just happened to me with him ending it. My lips tingle from the sudden loss of contact.

His breathing sounds just as ragged as mine as he pants and as he speaks a second later, the words are unusually deep and husky, filled with need. "See you later tonight."

As I watch him go through the door to where his car is parked in the garage, I feel my stomach drop as his words come back to me. _See you later tonight. _See me later tonight? What? He doesn't even know where I'm going, does he? I don't even know where Kate plans for us to meet Jose. So how can he say he'll see me later tonight?

**Hope this one wasn't lousy? I get so anxious every update! Do you want Christian to track her down (as he does), see her and Jose, and get jealous? Love to know your thoughts! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Again, I own nothing to do with the 50 Shades Trilogy. I'm just having fun with the characters. Thank you all so much for being so lovely. I do hope you enjoy this one ;) As always, I would love to know your thoughts. Thank you!**_

* * *

_**Chapter Seven**_

As I exit through the rotating doors out of the building and down the path to make a start with my walk home, I can't help smiling to myself. I'm smiling so hard that my cheeks begin to ache. Mr. Grey just kissed me. My boss Christian Grey just kissed me. And I want him to do it again. And again. And again.

What's more, is that he wants me to embark on some strange relationship with him. He wants _me_, _of all people_, to be his submissive. I don't exactly know what it means, or what we will be doing, but what I do know is that I enjoyed him spanking me and how he behaved while doing it.

It turned me on- and evidently, it turned him on as well. He thinks there is something wrong about feeling the way he did while spanking me- yet, I felt the same way. I enjoyed it as well. Maybe we're just as crazy and abnormal as each other then, if that's even what it means? But I really don't think its abnormal or strange at all. Doesn't everyone like different things, when it comes to sex? _Not that I would really know..._

I have no experience with sex, or anything remotely close to it. I'm a twenty-two year old virgin. I have never been in a relationship before, and I'm not even all that certain what I would want in a relationship with somebody. But maybe this is what I need as well? Maybe it wouldn't hurt to experiment and discover this, like he said?

He has never done this before. He has never been in a relationship like this before, but it is something he has always wanted and desired. I guess I'll never know what I really want until I give it a try for myself.

Loosening my arm on the papers he printed out for me to read, I scan through them curiously while I walk. All these things are mentioned. Things that leave my head feeling overwhelmed.

_Bondage with rope/leather cuffs/shackles/manacles/tape._

_Binding of hands/ankles/Fixed to items, furniture, etc._

_Blindfolds/gags._

_Spanking/Whipping/Caning/Nipple clamps/Biting._

Half of this stuff, I never even knew people do in relationships. When my mom and dad were married, they certainly never mentioned doing anything like this when they were together. I feel terribly hot as I read through random bits of the pages he has given me while paying no mind of where I'm walking; I know I liked the spanking, and I don't know how I'll deal with everything else, but it all sounds pretty exciting and sexy to me. I'll have to read through it more carefully later, but so far, it sounds pretty good.

I've never had sex though. Would that be a problem for him? Hopefully not.

_Animal Play: The sub acts or dresses like an animal (i.e; Puppy, kitten, bird). Age Play: Pretending to be daddy/daughter to replicate a nurturing relationship. _I feel heat gush up to my face as I snort while reading that. Does he actually want to do all of this? Some of it is very peculiar, but I can't deny it sounds interesting at the same time.

I think I do want to experience this with him, and it certainly helps to know he hasn't exactly done this before either. We will both be new with this, so I won't be the only one who doesn't know what's going on or how things will be done. We can help each other out and tell each other what feels right, and what doesn't. At least I'm not the only one who is inexperienced with this type of thing.

I do feel as if I want to get to know Mr. Grey better, outside of work. Not just sexually with his body, but his likes and dislikes. Who he is as a person and why this type of relationship interests him so much. There has to be more to my boss than I ever imagined possible, surely. Maybe this is the best way to get to know him on a more personal level?

Once I reach home, I go inside and feel like getting changed into my pajamas. Kate mentions nothing of tonight and going out with Jose, so I assume it's off, which pleases me to no end. Right now, I don't feel like heading out. I would much prefer to stay at home and read for a while- not only a few new chapters in the book I'm currently reading, but all the pages Mr. Grey has printed out for me.

Since I don't want to risk Kate grabbing ahold of any of the pages Mr. Grey printed out for me, I clamber quickly into my bedroom, shut the door, and tuck the large stack of information under my bed. She can't find it and read it on me that way. I have no desire to explain any of it to Kate anytime soon. It would be way too embarrassing.

As I grab my flannel pajamas out of my wardrobe, Kate bursts into the room rudely without so much as knocking.

"Uh, Ana. What are you doing?"

"What do you mean? I'm getting changed into my pajamas."

"Uh, no. No, you're not." This is Kate; She can be so bossy at times. "Don't you remember what I told you last night? We're supposed to be heading out and meeting Jose for drinks."

I groan under my breath. Of course, I haven't forgotten what she has said. I was just miserably hoping she had changed her mind. Heading out tonight is the last thing I want to do right now. I'm just not in the mood. Plus, my backside is still sore from Mr. Grey's spanking.

"Kate, I don't really want to head out tonight. I'm too tired. Maybe another night."

"Well, too bad. You're going with me, otherwise what's the point? Jose only suggests going out when he knows you'll be there." I've noticed that myself. Jose kind of only wants to head out for drinks if he knows for certain I'm coming, which is another thing that annoys me about him. I like Jose- but in a purely platonic way. He's like a brother to me. I know that if we do end up heading out tonight, Kate will be constantly trying to set us up and, when she does that, the night has the tendency to get a little awkward.

"I just feel like staying in and reading."

"Again?" She huffs in anger. "Ana, you do that every night! What's it going to kill you, in heading out for once and being sociable? Your books can wait for one night, surely. You're going to end up like an old cat lady being single the rest of her life."

"God, you sound like my mother," I retort. "You're not my mother, Kate. You can't tell me what to do!"

She actually stomps her feet on the ground like a five-year-old upset about not getting her own way. "Please, Ana," she begs me, giving me one of her pleading looks. "You know that Jose won't want to go out anymore if you don't, and I feel like heading out tonight and getting drunk. I don't want to end up heading out for the night alone. Why can't you just come out for one night? Please!"

Kate has always been a loyal and supportive friend to me. But we're just different; She enjoys having a million friends, and heading out to hook up with different guys, whereas I'm more of a homebody who prefers to stay home and read on the couch. Sometimes I wonder how it is that we became best friends, since we're so unlike each other.

But she's right; It won't actually kill me to head out and enjoy the nightlife for once. I just hope Mr. Grey won't end up tracking me down and following through on his words of seeing me later tonight. That's partly reason why I'm not so keen to go out. I don't want to risk seeing him outside of work.

"Fine, I'll come out with you," I relent. "But on one condition."

"What is it? I'm listening."

"I have no interest in hooking up with Jose. He's a close friend. So please, don't start trying to get us together. It'll be awkward, especially since I don't like him in _that_ way." _No, I kind of have a thing for my boss at the moment. He is the only one I'm currently interested in, not Jose. Not that I would ever tell you, Kate... _"So, Kate, the minute you start trying to get us to get together and it turns all awkward, I'm leaving. Deal?"

"It's a deal, I promise! I won't do anything, I swear!"

I hold out my hand, and she shakes it firmly. I just hope she will stay true to her word.

"Thank you!" She gushes, grinning at me widely. "We're going to have so much fun, I promise! Let's go get dressed, and please, let me help you pick something out to wear!"

* * *

Once we finally get into the bar after the bouncer checks our I.D's, we discover Jose is already waiting for us by the entrance.

He's wearing jeans and a blinding white V-neck T-shirt that makes his tanned skin stand out wonderfully. He hugs the pair of us enthusiastically once he spots us, and then he suggests buying the three of us a pitcher of lime margaritas to get the night truly started. I try to pace myself with the alcohol as we find somewhere to sit at a vacant table.

The club tonight where we are is packed and busy, with so many people. Immediately I regret coming and wish I had stayed home in my warm, comfy pajamas with a trusty book at hand.

I have never understood why people like to go out and get drunk senselessly.

It just doesn't appeal to me, but I guess it does to Kate, and like a good friend should, I have let her drag me along. I feel all jittery with nerves as I glance around the bar anxiously.

I'm waiting, and kind of dreading, the moment I see Christian Grey enter the bar. I hope he was just lying about actually seeing me tonight. I don't know how I would feel if he does actually turn up.

I especially don't want him seeing me in what I'm wearing; Kate managed to convince me to wear one of her dresses, and it's red and knee-length; a halter neck cocktail dress that feels a little tacky and tarty. Furthermore, she has also managed to coerce me into wearing her suede ankle boots.

I feel like a clown or a... hooker working the streets for the first time. This is _so not_ what I'm used to wearing. It's really hard to feel comfortable or to sit still.

Kate and Jose start a conversation about something, but I'm not really listening.

My concentration is on other things, like keeping my eyes on the entrance like a hawk for the unsettling moment my boss enters. I really hope he won't end up coming here. There is over twenty bars in Seattle, and he hopefully doesn't know which one I'm at. That should buy me some time if he was actually serious about seeing me, at least.

Still, all the waiting is nerve-wracking.

"So, how is work going for you, Ana?" Jose asks me, bringing me back down to earth with a thud. "Are you still working at the same place as the last time you told me when we caught up?"

Forcing myself to look at him, I force a smile at him. It's hard to be present around Jose and Kate when I'm stressing so much. "I am, yeah. Work has gone great."

"Aside from her boss," Kate cuts in. She is on her second margarita, while I'm still on my first. I really am taking it slow and steady. I don't want to get too drunk. I have only been drunk once before, and it was an entirely unpleasant experience, waking up the next morning with my head plastered to the toilet bowl after vomiting my guts out. I don't ever want to get that drunk again, but Kate apparently hasn't learned her lesson. "Ana's boss is such an asshole- from what I've heard of him, anyway. He gets her to do all these things, like making him coffee and getting him his lunch and shit. It's pretty unfair. I mean, he has legs. Why can't he make his own coffee?"

I feel like defending Mr. Grey, but I force myself to keep quiet.

"Wow, really?" Jose says in shock. "He sounds like a complete jackass, Ana. Why don't you quit if it's that bad?"

"It isn't that bad, Jose," I reply. "If it was, do you really think I would still be working for him? He's all right." I take a quick sip of my margarita before changing the topic. It's already making me feel uncomfortable. "Jose, how is the photography going?"

Jose takes amazing pictures. I haven't seen many of the photos he has taken, but the ones I have seen, of landscapes, oceans, the sky... They are really impressive, the way he can manipulate the pictures easily with his computer skills. I don't understand why he hasn't thought of making an honest career out of it.

"I haven't been taking as many pictures as I would like to," he admits to me. "It's hard to find the perfect locations for it." He sees I have only drank half of my glass of margarita. "Come on, Ana. Kate is already beating you. Drink up, already!"

"I don't want to get drunk," I tell him. "Unlike Kate, having a crushing hangover and vomiting in the morning doesn't appeal to me." Kate makes a face at me, poking out her tongue, which is disturbingly green from the margarita.

"You just don't know how to have fun, Ana," she says, but I know she's mostly teasing so I don't take it too seriously. "It's the weekend, and Jose is right. Hurry up and finish your margarita so he can pour you another!"

"Yeah, hurry up, Ana!" Jose sings, goading me on.

Giving into the peer pressure, I quickly swallow down the rest of the contents in my glass and Jose pours me another one. As he sets the glass pitcher back down on the table, he adjusts his chair a little, so that he is sitting closer to my side, rather than Kate's, and he stretches over to rest his arm on the back of my chair, flicking his thumb back and forth over my left shoulder-blade.

This is mostly why I dread hanging out with Jose; He has never actually asked me out or made the first move or anything, but he does like to invade my personal space, as if he is hoping I'll do something about it. It's never going to happen though, and I hope he does know that.

We're good friends, and I want to keep it that way. I can't see him any other way but that.

I stiffen when Jose slips an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his side, making the biggest move he has ever done on me before. It makes me feel uncomfortable, and I don't like it very much, because I know with Jose it means so much more than just a mere friendly gesture. He is probably warming himself up for a grand gesture to come later. I really hope not.

"Are you having a good time?" he asks me, and when I glance over at him, his dark eyes are watching me attentively.

"Sure." I smile at him weakly. "It's been awesome so far."

"Could you sound anymore fake?" Kate butts in, and you can tell she's near the point of being completely intoxicated because she's at her giggly, joking stage. "You aren't even drinking much, Ana. What's wrong with you?"

"I just don't want to get drunk," I tell her tartly. "It's like I said. I'm trying to be responsible."

"Boring," she mutters under her breath. "Responsible is boring, Ana. You need to have fun every once in a while. We have the whole weekend!"

"Who says I'm not having fun just because I don't intend to get drunk?"

She stares me down and I stare her down as well, giving it back just as hard as she's giving it. Then Kate grows bored and pours herself her third- or is it forth?- margarita. Tomorrow morning, unfortunately for me, I know I'll have to be the one stuck with picking her back up again while she has a hangover- and I'm dreading it. Jose's arm is still around me. It's annoying.

I feel his presence before I see him. I just get this terrible, unnerving feeling in my stomach, and the instance I glance up to the entrance where people are packing in, _there_ he is. My boss. Mr. Grey.

_Oh, wonderful. He's actually here somehow!_

_He's found me!_

He's so tall he is easy to see past the bodies and heads filling in.

He's alone, and he looks slightly agitated by all the people crowding in the club. I watch him as he squeezes his way past a couple and its then I finally catch what he's wearing tonight. He's wearing a black button-up shirt, light blue denim jeans, and a tightly fitted, unzipped leather jacket. He is dressed casual for the evening, and hardly looks anything like a boss. I have never seen him outside of work before, and it takes me a second to get over the shock of not seeing him in his usual suit and red tie. He looks good, though. _Very_ good. Almost edible, and I have to remind myself it isn't cool to drool.

_Close your mouth, Steele. Drooling is for babies._

His eyes scan around the club and I feel a sudden, nagging urge to hide. I know it's childish of me, but I just don't want him to have to see me here, like this. I lean into Jose subtly, resting my chin and face near his shoulder, without either him or Kate noticing. They're too busy talking and laughing anyway. I hope he won't see me. I hope he'll just give up, change his mind, and head on home, thinking I'm not here. I'm holding my breath as I watch him pull a hand out of his jean pocket and run his fingers through his hair. He looks both pissed-off and severely disappointed as he looks around. Probably because he hasn't noticed me sitting at the table.

_Please don't see me. Please, just leave straight away, right now._

"Ana, what are you doing?" Jose asks me in sheer confusion, and I close my eyes tightly. He laughs nervously. "Are you hiding from someone?"

Damn. Damn. Damn. I didn't realize I was being that obvious. "Yes," I get out in a small whisper. "Please, just keep talking as if I'm not here."

"Who are you hiding from?" I open my eyes to find Jose looking around curiously. I wish he wouldn't ask. "Why are you hiding? Is someone here that you don't want to see right now?"

"Please," I mutter desperately. "There is just someone here that I don't want to see me."

"Why not?"

"Just please, Jose."

"Okay then," he laughs quietly, and I know he thinks I'm being completely weird. Then, startling me, Jose gets to his feet slowly, wrapping his hand around one of mine, lifting my arm up and pulling. I strain against him with all my might, fighting to get my hand free from his grasp. "Come on, Ana. Let's have a dance."

He tries to pull me to my feet, but I'm fiercely resistant. _No! If I get up, Mr. Grey will see me for sure!_

"Just wait until he leaves, Jose," I tell him urgently. "I promise I'll have a dance with you, but let's just wait until he leaves first!"

"Who? For who to leave first? Who are you talking about?" Much to my horror, Jose finally succeeds in pulling me upright onto my feet. Despite my protests and my yanking to get free, he tows me along towards the dance floor where people are grooving, and I have no choice but to go along with him. He takes both my hands in his and raises my arms, beckoning me to slide them over his shoulders so that we can dance like everyone else is. "Oh, come on, Ana. What is going on with you? Who is this person you are trying to avoid?"

Seeing no way out of it, I sigh heavily and jut my chin out into his general direction. "The guy wearing the leather jacket," I say quietly, pathetically afraid he'll somehow hear me and it'll draw his attention to us. "It's him I don't want seeing me."

Jose turns to look, and its so obvious that he is. He's full-on staring at Mr. Grey, without a care in the world that its rude to stare forwardly at someone, but I haven't looked yet to check and see if he has actually noticed me or not. I can only pray he hasn't.

"Who is that guy, Ana? Why don't you want him seeing you?"

I chance a look, and my heart stops dramatically in my chest for one single second. _Oh, shit._ _Fantastic._ Just my luck, Mr. Grey _has_ noticed. He's staring right at us, but it's hard to tell what he is thinking or feeling. I think he almost looks relieved that he has finally found the club where I'm at tonight. But at the same time, he also looks... annoyed and shitty. _Why is he shitty for? It couldn't possibly be because I'm dancing with Jose with my arms wrapped around him, could it?_

While I don't know Mr. Grey all that well, he doesn't seem like the jealous type to me. Surely he is better than that? Or maybe I'm wrong?

"On second thought, I don't blame you, Ana," I hear Jose say, and I feel him shudder from all around me. "He looks scary, like he wants to kill someone. Who is this guy and why is he bothering you?"

_He's my boss, and I think I have the hots for him,_ _Jose,_ I think but don't answer him out loud. _He wants to have a kinky BDSM relationship with me, and, honestly, I think I'm keen to go with it._

Still, I laugh anxiously at the understatement of Jose's words. Mr. Grey is used to intimidating people at work. It's practically his job to do that, and I have witnessed a few women crying at work because of him. "Yeah, I guess he can be a little scary at times."

"Do you want me to confront him?" Jose asks me, sounding real determined to do that. "I can, if you want? If he is bothering you, I can make him back-off? No man should ever make a lady feel frightened."

I know it isn't the most brightest idea, the instance Jose suggests it. Christian Grey is my boss, and he's taller than Jose. He looks pretty muscular too, and as if he could handle himself in a fight well. But I wouldn't want anything happening- to either one of them. We're adults, not school children. Fighting and brawling is so seventh grade.

"No, Jose. Thanks for the offer, but no. Definitely not. No confrontations. It wouldn't be very good."

I glance over at him again, and he's still watching us, only he has a woman at his side. I don't think he actually knows her, but she's obviously trying to hit on him. He doesn't seem interested in her one bit, though, and I feel my heart sink when he says something to her, something that she doesn't look too happy about, and then he retreats away from us towards the entrance where he came in, not once looking back at me.

_Wait. Is he leaving?_ He isn't going to talk to me or tell me how it is that he actually came to know where I was? What the hell was the point of him saying he would see me tonight then, if he was just going to leave? Or maybe it's because of... Jose? He doesn't want to approach because of Jose. _Well, over my dead body._ How dare he come all the way here and not even talk to me? If he doesn't want to come to me, then I'll go to him.

I slip my arms off Jose's shoulders and lean away from him. "I'll be right back," I tell him, and he looks suddenly wounded.

"Why? Where are you going? I thought we were going to dance together?"

"I know, but I just have to go do something. I'll be back in a bit."

After pushing my way through the crowd, I finally get outside, trying to find him. For a moment, I can't find him anywhere. How did he get away so quickly? But then fortunately I spot him- well, the back of his leather jacket anyway while he strides away quickly towards where a motorbike is parked near several others.

"Christian, wait," I call out to him, trying to get his attention before he well and truly leaves. "Erm, I mean... Mr. Grey. Sir, wait!"

I walk forward through a bunch of people lining up to go inside, keeping my eyes on nothing else but his retreating form, and I kind of don't really look where I'm going. I see him turn back to look at me, hands on his hips. There's a plunging sidewalk I've failed to take notice of, and before I know it, I'm falling and twisting my ankle in the stupid boots Kate has let me wear at the same time. Cursing myself out of my own stupidity, I manage to break my fall by using my hands to catch myself and I feel loose bits of asphalt dig into my palms painfully. I think I have definitely succeeded in hurting my hands, all in front of my boss. I have managed to fall and twist my ankle, right in front of Christian Grey's eyes. How fucking embarrassing!

"Fuck, oh!" I hear Mr. Grey's voice as he cries in shock, and then he is hurrying back to me and is considerately lifting me up off the ground with his arms around me. "Are you okay?" he asks me, his voice sympathetic. "Fuck, that looked as if it was painful. Are you hurting?"

_My ankle on my right foot is definitely hurting. And so is my pride._

"God, I'm so stupid," I grumble in embarrassment, refusing to look at him. This was not at all what I was planning to happen. "I didn't realize the sidewalk was that deep. I didn't even see it!"

"Are you hurt?" he repeats, and when I allow myself to meet his eyes for one quick moment, he looks surprisingly worried for me. _How nice. At least he cares..._

"I... I think I just twisted my ankle a little," I explain, trying not to look too hurt. I feel as if I want to cry over it, the pain when twisting it was that bad and instantaneous- but I don't. I tell myself firmly not to. Crying in front of him; Not a good look for me. "I'm sure I'll be fine in a little bit."

"Why did you come out here anyway?" he asks me, sounding sincerely confused, almost making me laugh. _He really doesn't know? Isn't it obvious?_

"I saw you come in, and I was expecting you to come over and talk to me. Yet, you just left? Why didn't you come over and say hello to me?" I sound way more hurt than I want to over it.

"You looked busy and like you were having a good time. I didn't want to intrude."

He didn't want to intrude? How stupid. "You wouldn't have intruded. I would have liked for you to say hello to me. It wouldn't have been intruding at all, and believe me, I'm not having as much of a good time as you think!" His arm is still wrapped around me, holding me flush against him, and its nice. Too nice of a feeling.

"Try to put some weight on your ankle now," he says, pushing me away slowly. I do as he says and, to my relief, the pain is pretty much gone now. I haven't seriously sprained my ankle, so that's a very good sign. "How does it feel now?"

"Better. Loads better."

"That's good. I was just leaving now so..." He trails off, and I get his intention immediately. He's actually leaving. I kind of want to go with him, and I know that's ridiculous of me. "I'm going to go home now. Have fun with your friends. I... I shouldn't have come here. It's inappropriate of me, and I apologize."

_Ah, here he goes again_. Apologizing and using that word. Inappropriate. "Why are you apologizing to me? How is this in any way inappropriate?"

I stare up at him, and he opens his mouth, then closes it up again. He doesn't seem to know what to say to that. He shrugs and looks away from me quickly. "Look, when you get home, will you shred it up?"

"Shred what up, Mr. Grey?" I ask, baffled. What is he talking about?

"You know, the... the things I printed out for you? Please, just shred them up. Throw them away. Forget I even suggested it. It was wrong of me, on all levels. Those women were right... I'm disgusting, I'm sorry."

What? Where is this even coming from? Why the hell he is he even saying this?

"You're disgusting?" I repeat in disbelief.

"Yes, I am. And I apologize. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm..." He stops suddenly, and he looks utterly filled with disgust. "I'm fucked up in the head. It was... terrible of me. Bad. I'm sorry." Before I can even get a word out, he steps over a motorbike, and the sight shocks me momentarily as I watch him grip the handlebars. _Mr. Grey has a Harley motorbike?_ Wow, I never once thought he was the type to have a motorbike. I suppose it explains the leather jacket.

There is so many things I want to say. So many things I want to make clear on him. I just don't know where to start.

"I don't think you're disgusting," I get out desperately.

For a second there, I think he doesn't hear me. But then he lifts his head and looks at me. "What?"

"I said," I repeat, raising my voice with all the conviction I can muster, "that I don't think you're disgusting. If you're disgusting, then what does that make me? I liked what you did to me! I _liked_ it; you spanking me! So if _your_ disgusting, then _I'm_ disgusting too!"

I get the feeling I'm talking too loudly, because I hear people laugh outside the club. I look back self-consciously and people are staring at us. _Oops. It never occurred to me that I was talking that loud._

"I think I actually want to try this with you." I smile at him tentatively, and he watches me, somewhat unbelieving. "I glanced at some of the pages you printed for me, here and there, and it seems interesting to me. I wouldn't mind trying it with you, if you're still interested with me?"

He gasps and his eyes widen. "You actually want to try this with me?"

"I do," I tell him honestly. "More than anything, Sir. There's nothing disgusting about it at all, in my view, and I don't think you're fucked up. I don't."

"Get on the back of my bike. Come home with me." And it is most definitely an order.

I have to let Kate and Jose know first, though. They would worry about me. "I have to tell my friends first that I'm leaving or else they will worry."

"You do that then. I'll meet you back here." He pushes down on the pedal of his bike and it roars to life loudly. But then I decide I can't be bothered trying to fight my way back inside and instead, I step closer to the back of his bike. I have never ridden on a motorbike before and self-consciously, I pull up my dress slightly and step over, sitting on the seat behind him. "What about your friends?" he asks me, leaning back to look at me.

"Oh, I'm sure they'll get over it. I have never been on a bike before, so please don't get me killed, Mr. Grey."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Miss Steele," he says over the engine, and I think he sounds amused. Smiling to myself, I wrap my arms around his waist tightly, trying not to lean into him. "You better hold on tight. I'll try to take this slow and easy on you, but I can't offer you any guarantees. I like to ride fast and push the limits, in most things."

And then we're off down the road and even something so simple as riding on the back of a bike, I discover, is thrilling. It's freezing, since I'm wearing only a dress and boots, and the wind blasts my hair around my face and smarts in my eyes, but it isn't unpleasant. No, it's rather fun. Also, I enjoy having an excuse to lean into Christian. I rest my chin against the padded leather on his shoulder, snuggling up into his back, and his body seems to tense and go rigid over it, but he doesn't tell me not to or that he doesn't like it.

Mr. Grey likes riding a motorbike. Another thing I'm learning about him.

I know Kate is going to give me shit for this later. She is going to be so worried about me, wondering where I have disappeared off to. But, as for now, I don't care. I just want to spend time with Christian Grey. I definitely wouldn't object to some more kissing with him. Maybe even losing my virginity to him, or starting this thing between us. I'll deal with the consequences from Kate later.

**Hope this was okay? So sorry if it's bad! Please be gentle on me :) And I know it's strange for Christian to be so uncertain, but this will be basically his first time being in a Dom/Sub relationship (Ana, also) and there's no ex-subs in this one. Sorry if its really out of character!**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Thank you guys so much! I hope you enjoy this one! :)**_

* * *

_**Chapter Eight**_

As we stop at a red light, waiting for it to turn green, I lean closer into Mr. Grey and secretly sniff the back of his neck. He smells so good. He's wearing a cologne I'm not sure the name of, but it's a very masculine and rich fragrance. I never knew a man could smell so good. The cologne suits him well.

"That's a nice cologne you're wearing tonight, Mr. Grey," I tell him, just for something to say while we wait. "You smell really good."

"You sniffed me?" He sounds weirded-out by that, I think. My face flushes with embarrassment. Maybe I am strange for sniffing him?

"No, not deliberately anyway," I lie, trying to repair the situation. "Just by sitting close to you on your bike, I can kind of... smell the cologne you're wearing. It's nice."

"Oh. Well, thank you for the compliment, Miss Steele."

"You're very welcome, Sir."

Finally the light turns green and then we're off again, and I try to let go of my embarrassment. It occurs to me that I'm probably exposed to the public world, considering I'm only wearing a dress. Self-consciously, I try to stretch the dress down over my knees, but it doesn't seem to help any. I really hope no one can see my ass, or at least the underwear I'm wearing. It feels like they can, since so much wind is getting on my skin, but hopefully I'm just being paranoid. Fortunately for me, it isn't a long ride to where he lives. He takes a right and then we're riding leisurely up a private gravel driveway.

A lit house comes into view, and it's huge. It has big glass windows so that you can easily see inside, and it looks rather expensive. I can't believe I just automatically agreed to heading home with my boss without thinking it properly over. It takes me a good three seconds to accept this... This is where my boss lives, and who knows what will happen between us once we get inside?

Despite it probably being foolish or stupid of me to think this way, I kind of want to have sex with him. To experience my first time with Mr. Grey. That, or at least kiss some more, like how he kissed me today when no one was around before we both left.

As we go up the steep driveway, I have to tighten my arms around his waist, which I quietly like. He feels very strong and nice to hold onto- if that isn't a weird thing to think about someone. There's a garage connected to the house, and it automatically lifts and opens so that he can park his bike inside. I see his black Lamborghini parked in there. Of course, I know nothing about cars, but it looks like a Lamborghini to me.

He slows the bike down and easily slides his way beside the car, and once the bike is completely shut off, I try to get off quickly without him seeing in case my underwear is showing. I adjust my dress quickly, but when I glance over at him, I discover he is already watching me anyway with a strange look I can't work out. _Great._ I think he's thinking that I'm weird, and I don't blame him for thinking that. I probably am heaps weird compared to the other girl's he has to deal with at work.

"I can't believe you ride a bike, Mr. Grey," I say in astonishment, watching him as he climbs off it effortlessly. Those long legs really work to his advantage. "I never pegged you for a motorbike rider."

"Oh, really? Why not?"

"I don't know." I try to think of the best way to explain it without offending him, but something tells me a little honesty never hurts anyone. "You just don't seem like the type to ride a motorcycle. You just seem rather... uptight and cautious. Honestly, I was expecting you to turn up in your Lamborghini." I turn and look at his immaculate, shiny car. It's easier to look at than his face.

He laughs suddenly at my words. "It isn't a Lamborghini, Miss Steele," he mutters wryly. "Not even close to it. It's an Audi R8."

_Oh. Whoops._ I feel a glow of heat surge up to my ears. "Well, in my defense, I know jack-all about cars. I assumed it was a Lamborghini. My mistake."

"Did you enjoy the ride?" he asks me, and when I turn to look at him again, he's still watching me. He's leaning against his bike, and somehow, I just feel he looks so good. Attractive, almost like a bad boy.

"I did," I tell him truthfully. "It helps that you made me feel so... safe."

Again, he's looking at me in a strange way I can't figure out. His expression turns almost gentle, in a way. "I made you feel safe?"

"You did and, because of that, I wasn't nervous about riding on the back of a bike for the first time. So thank you."

"It was my pleasure. I'm glad that you felt safe." There is an awkward silence that passes between us for a few minutes. I guess we both don't know what more to say. I sure as hell don't know what to say. But then, Mr. Grey says, very confidently, "You were hiding from me, weren't you? Back in the club, you were hiding from me." He must be very observant.

I had hoped I wasn't being so obvious with that. Guess I was wrong. "I was," I admit quietly, seeing no sense in lying about it. I smile at him apologetically. "I know it was childish of me, but... I just didn't want you to have to deal with my friends. I know how they can be."

"Why? What is so wrong about your friends?"

It's so hard to put it adequately into words how Kate and Jose can be. But I give it my best shot. "When they're drunk, they can just be very... loud and aggressive. I didn't want them to make you feel uncomfortable- Kate, especially. She has the tendency to interrogate people when she's drunk, and she lacks a verbal filter. It would have been really uncomfortable on you."

He nods and I watch him rake his fingers through his hair as he processes that very seriously. "Well, I'm a big boy, Miss Steele. I'm sure I can handle about anything that is thrown my way."

"I know that you're a big boy," I mutter softly, clasping my hands in front of me tightly. I stare down at my hands, feeling guilty for some reason. "I personally just didn't want you to have to deal with Kate. Not when she's drunk and I didn't want it to lower your impression of me; The people I hang with on non-working days."

"It's your own personal, private life, Miss Steele. What you do in your own time is your own business. It has absolutely nothing to do with me."

I nod understandingly at my hands.

"Are you sure it was just only for my sake, though, Miss Steele? Or did you just not want to see me? I got the feeling as if you were hiding from me, that I intimidate you. I didn't feel it had in any way anything to do with your friends."

And he's right about that, too. But does he intimidate me? Well, he's my boss. He has power over me, he decides whether I'll keep my job or not. That is the only reason he intimidates me slightly. "You do intimidate me a fair bit, because you're my boss."

"I am your boss, yes. But we're not at work right now, are we? It is the start of the weekend. Don't think of me as your boss right now. Think of me as just some random stranger you're meeting for the first time."

I don't know if I can do that, but I'll try. "Okay, so right now, you're not my boss. I'll try my best to view it that way." I look up at him and he is eyeing me in the red dress Kate let me borrow. He looks at me carefully with no shame, and something there in his grey eyes I can't work out the meaning of. I think he likes what he is seeing, but I can't be too sure.

"Let's get you inside," he murmurs, standing to his full height. "You look cold and you're shivering."

He's right; I _am_ shivering, and when I look down at my arms, they are covered in goose pimples. I never even realized how cold I was, until he pointed it out to me.

"How is the ankle?" he asks me, and he's staring down at my exposed shins. Is that longing in his look I think I see or am I being stupid?

"It's better now, Mr. Grey. I don't think I have seriously damaged it."

"Well, that's good then." Stunning me, he places his hand in the center of my back. I feel my heart start to race over it. "Let's get you inside where it's warmer. I'll show you around."

I let him guide me out of his garage and then he leads the way up a set of stairs. There's an electronic keypad near the front door that he punches a number into, and then he opens the door for me and steps back to allow me entrance first into his house. He is being considerate and letting me enter first, even holding the door open for me. I never really knew gentleman still existed in this day and age, but he is definitely acting like one.

I step into the hallway nervously, glancing around. The floors are made out of polished dark wood and he has framed pictures on the stark-white walls. I stop still at one of the pictures as I hear him close the front door, inspecting it curiously. This is a framed, black-and-white picture of a woman on her knees, with her back facing the camera. It looks professionally taken and artistic. The atmospheric lighting makes the demure bones on her back stick out artfully, and her hands are tied behind her back with duct tape.

This is certainly not a surprising picture for me to find Mr. Grey has in his house; Now that I know what he likes, the picture only just amuses me in some wicked way.

"You have a picture of a naked woman with her hands tied behind her back?" I turn to look at Mr. Grey with amusement, finding him standing closer behind me than I realized. His hands are on his hips and he seems to be gauging my reaction anxiously, as if worried the picture will offend me.

"I do," he says, and I hear the embarrassment in his tone of voice. "If you look around more closely, you'll probably find pieces similar to that around here everywhere."

"I can't say it surprises me," I remark, fighting back a smile. "Especially now that you have told me what you like, and your fantasies about having a relationship like this. But the photo, it's... nice. Very tastefully done."

"Can I get you anything?" he asks me, ignoring my comment. "A drink? Something to eat?"

"Oh, no thank you. I'm fine."

"I'm going to have a drink. Why don't you have one with me?"

Since he puts it that way, I surrender. "Fine, then. A drink would be lovely. Thank you, Sir."

He moves past me down the hallway to get started on the drinks while sliding his arms out of his leather jacket. The light denim blue jeans he is wearing are tight and show off his ass. He has a nice backside. _Not that I'm looking too closely, or anything like that..._

I quickly turn my eyes back on the framed picture when he glances my way suddenly without warning. Getting caught staring at his ass isn't exactly something I want to happen. "Is a martini all right with you? Or would your prefer for me to make you something else instead?"

"Um, yeah. A martini is great, sir. Thank you."

"Make yourself comfortable," he says, and then he disappears into where I'm presuming his kitchen is.

I edge slowly down along the hallway, feeling filled to the brim with curiosity. It isn't everyday you get to go into your bosses house and see how he lives when he isn't working. From in the kitchen, I hear chunks of ice being thrown into a glass. Then I hear Mr. Grey shaking something vigorously. I kind of wouldn't mind watching him do his thing with making alcoholic drinks like a well-seasoned bartender, but I also want to investigate his living quarters some more.

There is a door closed along the hallway that I feel awfully tempted to open and peek inside. Making sure he isn't coming back to me yet, I pull it open and find the light switch quickly. I'm pretty confident it is Mr. Grey's bedroom.

The wallpaper is a deep red color, and even his bed sheets and the canopy match the paper. There is a big red vinyl seat near the bed and a weird box thing that seems to be locked up securely with a padlock. I can't help but wonder what is in there. What does my boss keep locked away? A gun, maybe? A rifle? Who knows? I wonder what dark secrets he's hiding in that box. It could be anything.

I know I wouldn't mind spending a decent amount of time in here with him, though. Us on his bed, naked with no clothes on sounds very nice. Maybe I will get my chance later on tonight with him?

"Do you mind?" Mr. Grey's voice suddenly comes from behind me, and I jump like a startled cat. Jesus, I never even knew he had returned to me. He's standing right behind me, holding two martini glasses and looking grim. He sounds very annoyed and I know an angry man when I see one.

"I'm sorry," I tell him quickly. "I was just curious. I didn't mean to be so rude."

He hands me my drink and I watch the way he presses his lips together in a tight line as he moves around me, slamming the door to his bedroom shut loudly. His jaw slackens and then tightens, and the muscles in his throat twitch.

"Sorry," I say again truthfully. "I didn't mean to. I was just curious. Sorry, Sir."

"Stop apologizing to me," he says in a low voice. He looks very aggravated, and I hate that I've made him that way. And he's so right; It is rude of me. "No one has ever seen my bedroom before, and there _is_ a reason for that. Just don't apologize to me. One apology was sufficient enough from you, Miss Steele."

"But I mean it, Sir." I know I'm rambling, but I just need to make sure he knows I'm truthfully sorry. "I don't know why I felt entitled just then to peer inside your bedroom. I forgot my manners. I suppose curiosity just got the better of me. I just simply want to get to know you, as a person. Not just as my boss, but a real person."

"You want to know me? The real me?"

"Yes." It's true. Hell yes, I want to know him. _In his bedroom, outside his bedroom. _He's a bit like a new book; I've opened the first few chapters, had a glance inside, and now I want and need to know more. "I do want to get to know you."

"Then what do you want to know about me?" he asks me outright. But that isn't the way I was meaning it. "Ask away." I meant how two people usually get to know each other on a more personal level, where the questions come freely and without pressure.

"Um, do you think we could actually sit down somewhere first?"

"Of course. Come." He leads the way and I follow him slowly. We enter his kitchen, which opens up to be an extended room with a living room inside it as well. The kitchen area is so blinding and white. It puts where I live with Kate to shame; Everything in his house is tidy and well-organized, whereas at home, Kate's clothes are everywhere and I always seem to be the one doing dish duty.

He plops down on an ottoman facing his two-seater couch and makes himself comfortable in the living room area, which has a large flat-screen TV and a fluffy earth-brown rug on the floor covering the wood panels. I take the couch and immediately, the instance I sit, I sink down into it. My boots barely just touch the ground.

"Your house is very nice, Mr. Grey," I say politely. I know it is always good to compliment someone.

"Is it?" he asks me doubtfully, and he takes a small sip of his martini. I glance down at mine myself. There is a lemon rind in it, and I don't think I have ever actually tried a martini before.

"Yes, it is. It puts where I live to shame."

"How so?"

"My apartment with Kate is so chaotic and messy, whereas your house is so tidy and organized. But your house, it's... it's very nice, Sir."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it." He sounds pleased by my comment. "Usually I don't have house visitors aside from my family, so this is a... nice change." He smiles at me, but there's something off about his smile. It seems fake and not one morsel sincere. "I'm used to coming home alone at the end of the day so I'm probably not being the most accommodating host."

"No, I think you're doing quite a good job of it."

"You're not drinking," he says, and he dips his chin a little to signify he's talking about the martini I'm holding in my hands.

"Oh." I laugh nervously as I lift the glass, pursing my lips over the rim. Mr. Grey is watching me very grimly as I force myself to swallow a few mouthfuls down. The martini is strong and you can taste the vodka in it from nearly a mile away. "It's very nice. Did you make the drink yourself, Mr. Grey?"

"Obviously," he mutters, his eyes still not leaving mine.

I feel very hot all of a sudden and it isn't even hot in his house. What is wrong with me? I hope I'm not catching a viral infection or something from riding his motorcycle in the cold nighttime air with just a dress on.

"I hope it isn't too strong for you," Mr. Grey says, and I find myself fixated by him as he dips his forefinger and middle finger into his glass quickly, and then he puts them into his mouth, sucking the liquid off as if testing to see if it is too strong for someone like me, who isn't used to drinking all that often. "I swear I'm not intentionally trying to get you drunk," he goes on, licking his lips. Why is him licking his lips, no less his fingers, so sexy to me? "I'm just used to having this much alcohol in my drinks, Miss Steele. This is the way I like to make my martinis anyway."

"I've never had a martini before," I admit.

"Really, you haven't?" He sounds shocked and he arches his left eyebrow at me.

"Nope, I haven't. I'm not much of a big drinker."

"But you go out often to nightclubs," he guesses, sounding so self-assured on that. "You looked as if you were enjoying yourself tonight. Is that something you like to do? Do you do that often?"

"No. I wasn't really enjoying myself all that much. Besides, Kate literally ordered me to come out with her tonight. I would have preferred to just stay home and read. I prefer to stay in the house and have a quiet night reading, and not go out to clubs and get tipsy. Truthfully, I see no point in it. It just doesn't appeal to me at all, but Kate calls me antisocial if I don't agree to go out with her to get drunk at least once in a while."

"So you're more of a home-girl?" Mr. Grey asks me, and there is amusement in his tone. "You prefer to stay at home and read?"

"Yes, that's pretty much it. That's me."

"And what do you like reading?"

I told him I wanted to get to know him, yet he is the one asking me all the questions. I suppose that doesn't matter though. "I'm particularly fond of the classics. Do you like reading yourself?"

He shrugs. "Sometimes. When I'm in the mood for it."

"What do you do, besides being my boss? What do you like to do for fun? How do you cool off after work?"

He plunks his glass with his thumbnail. "I like to make myself drinks after a very long day when I get home. I like unwinding that way. Other than that, I like to exercise and keep myself fit. Occasionally, if the weather is good, I take my bike out for a ride. I like to ride my motorbike, as it soothes me in some way. There is nothing quite like the sensation of feeling the wind in your hair." I smile to myself at his words. _Yes, I have to agree with him there. It was a very fun experience, riding on the back of his bike with him._ "My family is a big deal to me. I see my family and spend time with them. My siblings and parents are an important part of my life."

"You have siblings?" Finally, I'm starting to learn some personal things about him.

"I do. I have two younger siblings, Elliot and Mia. I spend time with them wherever I can." I detect a lot of affection for his brother and sister, and it's lovely. It's nice that he feels that way about them.

"What about friends?" I ask him curiously, and suddenly he looks uncomfortable for some reason. "Where do any of your friends come into this?"

"I don't have any friends," he says quietly, and I get the sense that he is ashamed by that, like he's admitting to a fatal flaw.

I don't think it's anything terrible. If anything, it's tragic. How lonely it must be for him. We all need friends. I don't understand why he doesn't have any good friends; He seems very interesting, he's nice, and, of course he is really nice to look at. Why wouldn't anyone want to be his friend and get to know him on a more personal, deeper level? How come he doesn't have any friends?

"I suppose I have trouble opening up to people, hence why I don't have many friends," he continues a moment later, and finally, I think I am beginning to understand why. "I find it... difficult to trust people. I firmly believe that, at the end of the day, the only people you can completely trust are the ones you grew up with. Your family."

As if deciding he has already said way too much, Mr. Grey presses his lips together firmly then shrugs before taking a long sip of his drink.

I find it's nice that he loves and cares for his family so much. But at the same time, it's sad he doesn't have any close friends.

"I don't have any siblings, but I wish I did. I'm an only child."

He makes a grunting noise of agreement at my words as he briskly finishes off his entire martini. "I could never imagine myself being an only child," he says, and he leans slightly off the ottoman he is sitting on to put his empty glass down on the floor. "I would hate it if I didn't have any siblings. I would be utterly lost without them."

"Then it's lovely you care so much about your family. It's real nice."

He rises from the ottoman and moves over towards the couch, something I'm not completely all that prepared for. There's a strange way about how he walks, how he looks at me. He reminds me of an animal for some reason, a meat-eating animal. I'm the meal, and he's the intimidating predator waiting for the right moment to pounce and consume me whole. He sits beside me, probably a little too closer than necessary, and his shoulder touches mine. Just a simple thing as him moving to sit close to me on the couch makes me feel anxious. Mr. Grey leans over and touches my kneecap with his fingers, moving his thumb back and forth over my skin. It definitely isn't something I'm expecting, and I feel my stomach clinch.

"Don't you like it?" he asks me, and his voice is soft.

"Like what, Mr. Grey?"

"The drink I made you. You aren't even drinking it. If it's that bad, then don't bother drinking it. I'm not forcing you and you wouldn't offend me by not drinking it. I don't give a shit about the drink."

"I do like it," I insist. "I'm just not much a drinker. Not to discredit your awesome bartender skills, or anything..."

I catch the movement of his arm, and then his hand is against the side of my cheek, his palm cupping me and thumb stroking around my cheekbone gently. I have no idea where he is going with this. I don't even think I can manage to look at him, while he is doing this. I feel like I can't even breathe, like no air is getting into my lungs to give me adequate oxygen.

The couch gives a little tilt as he reaches over, takes my martini glass out of my hands, and he puts it on the floor, leaving me empty-handed. _Now what happens?_ Then he takes my hands gently in his, and he makes them move, guiding them up. I still don't look at him when he makes me touch the side of his face with my hands. I can feel little bits of stubble on his chin. It's very nice.

"Look at me," he says, an instruction. But I don't know if I want to.

I'm not sure I trust myself to look at him, because I know I want to have sex with him, right now, but I don't know if he wants to. I don't exactly want to come across as presuming or too forward. Also, I don't know when the right time is to tell him I'm a virgin, and that I haven't done this before. Should I do it right now- just blab it out into the open? Or should I just... pretend so it doesn't kill the moment? But since there is no way of escaping it, I lift my eyes and turn my head to meet his gaze. He looks filled with need, with desire. He licks his lips as his eyes alternate between my eyes and my mouth. I think it's clear he wants exactly what I want, too.

"You seem nervous," he observes softly. "Are you all right? Why are you nervous?"

I _am_ nervous. Really, _really_ nervous. I'm literally on the verge of a panic attack.

"Do I? I seem nervous to you, Mr. Grey?" I ask, managing to sound normal. I can play it cool. I know I can. _This'll be easy. Easy as pie._ He doesn't need to know. "Funny. I'm not nervous one bit. I'm not sure why you would think-"

My words are cut off abruptly when he presses his mouth onto mine, kissing me. He's leaning over his couch, almost on top of me with my breasts squashed up against his shirt, his hands cradling my face tightly and keeping me in place. And there's no denying I like it.

I've been kissed before, once or twice. But when he slips his tongue in, it's a whole new experience for me. I have never been tongue-kissed before, and it's a really strange sensation. It's slippery and ticklish, and I can taste the alcohol he just consumed from his martini. But this, I can handle.

_I can do this. Yes, yes I can. Kissing is no biggie._

But then it becomes less and less easy in sticking to the lie, when he changes direction. He starts kissing along the side of my neck, down my throat, and my heart is pounding in my ears in an uncontrollably wild way. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, and he evidently does. What if this turns him off- if he finds out how deep my inexperience is?

"I... I'm a virgin," I blab out without thinking.

"Huh?" He is panting, too preoccupied with kissing around my neck. There is a sense of desperation there, like he really wants to do this, too, and it's relieving to know I'm wanted just as much. His fingers twine and curl in my hair, as his lips part and he starts using his tongue, breathing over me warmly and flicking it over the base of my neck. It's wonderful, the feeling. Everything about it is, it's seriously a turn-on, but...

"You said I seemed nervous, and here's why: I'm actually a virgin, sir. I've never done anything like this before." The words come out in a fast and loud rush, and finally, it seems to do the trick.

Mr. Grey quickly flings himself away from me, his breathing uneven like he's just ran a marathon, and he stares at me questioningly for a few seconds before he manages to find his voice again. "You're a... a virgin? I assumed otherwise, considering your reaction to what we discussed before, about you being in a certain type of relationship with me. What? Why didn't you just tell me straightaway so I understood what was going on with you?"

To my relief, he doesn't sound disgusted at all. Or angry, or... anything, really. He just sounds confused, as if he is trying to understand. It takes a huge load off my shoulders.

"I wasn't sure when would be the right time to tell you. I didn't exactly want to be a buzz-kill."

"Buzz-kill?" He repeats and he laughs out loud. "You were trembling just then, and no wonder. I thought I was doing something wrong, yet you're nervous not because of me, but because it's your first time! Why didn't you just tell me and be upfront with me? It would have spared me all of this... confusion over your reaction just then. What the hell is going on in your mind? You're unbelievable! I assumed you had already done this, which is why I just... I jumped in?"

"Well, no, I haven't done it before. I've kissed a few guys, but that was it. Nothing else happened. We didn't exactly go all the way or anything." Annoyance gnaws within me. "I didn't realize it would be such a problem for you? That I hadn't done it before?"

"It isn't, not in the slightest. It just would have been helpful to know in advance."

"I'm telling you now, aren't I?" I get out at him. "If it's such a problem to you, then I can leave. If you don't want this anymore, then I'll just go. I'll catch a taxi, if you wouldn't mind me using your phone. Is it going to be an issue?"

"No. It's fine. It just would have helped to know."

"Well, I'm _telling_ you now, Mr. Grey!" I sense this is going to turn into an argument of some sort, but fortunately, he doesn't push it any further.

**So sorry, was this bad? Haha I get so anxious all the time, you have no idea. I want to send a huge, huge thank you to every single one of you, who has alerted this and reviewed. I cannot say enough how much it means to me, and it's scary and surprising for a first timer on here. Thank you! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Thank you guys. As usual, I'm nervous as hell. Hope you enjoy.**_

_**Chapter Nine**_

"Do you mind me asking how it is that you have stayed away from sex for so long? How come you have never done it yet?"

I don't even know how to answer that. "I don't know," I say hesitantly. "I suppose I just haven't found the right person yet. I want to be interested in the person, and feel comfortable around them, before I give myself to them wholly. Sex is a pretty big thing to me. I think it's a crucial thing for a relationship." He just nods at my words thoughtfully. "What about you? I'm guessing you've done it before, right?"

"I have. Once, in high school. I was fourteen."

_Fourteen? God, that's so young! _"You were just fourteen when you first had sex?"

"I was. She was a senior and she was older than me. She knew exactly what she was doing, so it was easy."

I can't help it that I feel a little disappointed that he has already done the deed. He'll know what he is doing, while I won't. I was hoping we were both equally as inexperienced as each other, but I suppose you can't have everything you want in life, can you?

"And after that?"

"Never done it again after that," he admits to me, looking a little embarrassed. "When I was sixteen, I found out what I wanted and what I was interested in. It was just incredibly hard to find the right girl. Everyone was so judgmental, all the women my mother tried to set me up with. Some accused me of being a woman-hater, but I'm not. I love and respect women. Just because I like the idea of spanking or tying them up and dominating them... it doesn't mean I don't respect women. I just know what I like and what I want out of a relationship- if you could _even_ call it that..."

"I don't think it means you hate women, just because you know exactly what you want and like out of a relationship. I won't judge you, Mr. Grey."

He cocks his head to the side slightly, giving me a strange contemplative look. "Then you're full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Am I?"

"You are. You're definitely not reacting the way I was expecting. No less, the way I'm used to. So you're waiting for the right person to come along?"

"I am." I smile over at him nervously. "Well, I _was_."

"And you think I'm the right person for you?" He sounds perplexed and slightly disbelieving.

"I do think that. I'm... interested in you, enough to want to have sex with you. Enough to try to do what you want."

He gives me a long, hard look. His eyebrows raise slightly, as if he's so stunned how I'm reacting to all of this. Maybe he is so used to women running away screaming at him? "Have you read all those pages I printed out for you?" he asks me.

"Some of it briefly," I add truthfully. "It sounded very interesting. Half the stuff, I was surprised people even do. Like the age play and the animal play. Is that what you're interested in, too?"

He bites down on his lip, like he is trying to hide a smile. He thinks that over for several minutes. "I don't know if that side of it is exactly what I would like to do. It sounded very interesting to me. I suppose I am open to anything. Are you open to anything?"

I really have to think about it. Him spanking me at work, over his desk in his office, had been very enjoyable. "I'm not so sure," I answer slowly. "But I think so. I'm keen for some exploration. But as for now, I wouldn't mind..." I trail off meaningfully, letting it linger in the air between us. Hopefully he gets where I'm going with this.

"You wouldn't mind what, Miss Steele?"

He sounds utterly oblivious. _Damn it. Maybe I'll have to spell it out for him after all._

"Well, I'm here, aren't I? I'm in your house with you. We're alone, just the two of us. I think you know where I'm going with this, don't you?"

His eyes narrow as he stares at me. For a moment, I don't think he's getting it. But then something flickers across his face, sudden understanding, and he shifts slightly on his couch to face me full-on. He rubs his fingers over his chin. "Do you want to have sex?" he asks me, his voice very gentle."Is that what you are trying to tell me? That you want to have sex, right here and now?"

"Yes, that is _exactly_ what I am trying to tell you, Sir."

"Now?" He turns and looks at something over on the wall. I turn and look too. A clock. It is now eleven thirty at night, but I don't feel tired in the slightest. "It's late." _Is he trying to wheedle his way out of having sex with me? I hope not._

"It is," I agree lightly. "But I'm not interested in sleeping now. Are you, Mr. Grey?"

"I am not, no." He smiles at me slightly. "Not with you here. Sleeping is the very last thing I want to do while I have you here in my house."

Well, that was an unexpected thing for him to say. Who knew my boss could be so flirtatious and playful? He certainly isn't playful at work.

"So what are we waiting for then? Let's go. Show me to your bedroom." I cringe at how overeager I sound, but I really have waited a long time to finally do the deed. And I know I have at last found the right person to do it with. Of course, that person is my boss and it is rather problematic but I can't help the way I feel or what I want.

I want to have sex with my boss. I want him to spank me and do all these other naughty things to me. _So sue me._

"Come with me into my bedroom."

Finally, he says what I have waited for him to say. Finally, we're going to go into his bedroom and, finally, after everything is done, I won't be a virgin anymore. He stands and I follow him as he leads the way down the hallway to where his bedroom is. He opens the door, allows me to enter first, and I feel so ridiculously excited. Excited but scared, all at the same time. I hope it won't be too hard to figure out what to do. Also, I hope he'll take it easy on me. He'll need to guide me along.

"As I said, I'm a virgin and I have never done this before," I tell him tentatively. "I hope you won't mind showing me along and taking it easy on me? I think it'll help."

"Of course. Whatever you need." When I turn to look at him, I see he looks just as excited as I must no doubt look. His eyes are bright and eager. "Take off your dress and your heels," he tells me without any hesitation whatsoever. As for myself, my entire body is screaming with hesitation.

I'm worried what he'll think of me without any clothes on. But biting down those nerves, I kick off my boots and he helps me with unzipping my dress. I deliberately avoid him as I slide out of the dress, rather ungracefully. I'm not wearing the most prettiest bra or underwear in the world, and I feel instantly vulnerable, like I'm doing something dangerous in letting myself being seen by him. He reaches down, collects my dress, and folds it neatly before taking my boots and moving them over to the couch near his bed. It's fairly cold in his room and I can feel myself shivering from head to toe.

He doesn't turn to look at me as he moves his hands up to his shirt, undoing the buttons at a dreadfully slow pace. He pulls out the tail of his shirt from where it is tucked in his jeans and he appears unfairly serene and comfortable about the idea of taking all of his gear off in front of me. Why can't I be more like that? When plucks open the button of his jeans, I feel as if I can't breathe properly. I haven't even seen a man naked before. Not in real life anyway, but I'm sure it will be a positively enlightening experience for me. Leaving his shirt and jeans undone, finally he turns to look at me. He really looks, bringing his eyes over me from where I stand.

I stand before him, clad in just my bra and panties, covered in goose-pimples, sore ass and all; exposed as I have never been in front of someone ever before. I have an urge to cover myself and hide. I have never been particularly proud of my body. There is a lot of things about it that I would love to change, but I figure everybody feels that way at one point or another. I watch him, holding in my breath anxiously, as he lets his eyes roam down my body, drinking every single part of me in. And, to my relief, he doesn't look put-off or disgusted at all.

"Are you shy about your body?" he asks me, and I squirm a little.

"I am a bit," I admit, feeling no sense in hiding it. "I get insecure, like everyone else probably is. No one has ever seen me like this before."

"Well, I'm pleased to be the first," he says, and I hear admiration in his voice. It's very flattering. "You have no reason to feel insecure about your body."

"I don't know," I get out in a hurried breath. "I feel as if I do. I know I'm not anything special. I'm no model, that's for sure."

Something changes in his expression. In his eyes particularly, over that comment. "What did you just say to me, Miss Steele?" He looks abruptly grim, like my boss all over again, and it's a little intimidating.

"You heard me, Mr. Grey. I said I'm nothing special. I know I'm not."

He moves behind me in a swift quick movement, and suddenly, his palm thwacks me in the place it did earlier today, making me feel all sore and bruised again. My eyes smart and I feel stunned, as if he has only just thumped me over the head with a frying pan. _What the hell? Why did he just spank me? What did I do?  
_

I blink at the wall slowly. "Why did you just...?" I whisper, trying to make sense of it all. "You asked me what I said to you. I was only just repeating myself, as you asked, Sir? I don't think I... understand."

"You will not talk that way about yourself ever again, do you hear me?" There is definitely something going on with his tone of voice. He's back to being my boss again, speaking in that low, deadly serious voice. "You _will not_ talk about yourself that way again, in such a negative light. If you do, you will receive more spankings. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir. I understand."

"You're a very beautiful and intelligent young woman." I feel myself flush with pride at his words. No one has called me beautiful before, no less intelligent. It's so lovely of him, although I can't say I believe him. "Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise, because that is exactly what you are and nothing can ever change that."

"Thank you, Sir," I whisper, touched. "It's very nice of you to say that to me. I think you're very handsome."

"Are you on the pill, Miss Steele?"

"The what, Sir?"

"The contraceptive pill. Do you take it?"

Oh, shit. "Should I be taking it?"

"No matter." Finally he moves so that I can see him again. There is a drawer near his bed that he pulls open and he takes out an unopened box of condoms. "We'll have to use one of these then. I don't want to get you pregnant, obviously. That wouldn't be very smart, would it? Your boss getting you pregnant?" I know he's mostly talking to himself, but I answer anyway.

"You're right and I definitely have no intentions of getting pregnant anytime soon, Sir."

Mr. Grey doesn't say anything in response to that. He just smiles to himself as he picks something small off the top of his drawer. I'm not sure what it is until he walks over to that box that is padlocked. He kneels down, unlocks it, and opens it. I feel a surge of curiosity. I really want to know what he has in there, but before I can even so much as ask, he takes something out of it and closes it up again. He uses the key to quickly lock it back up and as he slowly stands, he's holding something round and a silvery gray in his left hand. Duct tape. My heart surges. _What the hell is he going to do with that?_

"Do you know what this is, Miss Steele?" he asks me, holding the thick roll of tape up.

"I do. Duct tape."

"Well done." He sits the key on top of the box and makes a move towards me casually, while pulling the tape open.

"What are you going to do with that?" I ask, hating the fear in my voice.

"I am going to use it to tape your hands behind your back, Miss Steele. Is that all right with you?"

_Well, hey. At least he's asking for my permission first..._

This is definitely different, but not in a way to put me off completely.

"How am I supposed to touch you when my hands are stuck, though?" I ask him in confusion.

"That's exactly the point, Miss Steele. I don't like anyone touching me."

_Oh. He doesn't want me touching him?_

Bravely, I put my hands behind my back before he even has to ask. I trust him- that, I know beyond a doubt. He's my boss. If you can't trust your boss, then who can you possibly trust?

"Very good, Miss Steele," he mutters appreciatively. "Already, you are obedient. I didn't even have to so much as ask for you to do it. I like that... a lot."

It becomes harder and harder to maintain a brace face when he goes behind me. He starts rolling the tape over my wrists, bounding them together. It isn't painful, but it sure is going to be difficult not being able to touch him.

"I would feel better about this and less nervous if I could actually touch you, Sir," I admit quietly. Even I can hear the disappointment in my voice.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I am afraid I cannot let you do that." I hear the rip of the duct tape telling me he is done, and as he moves to look down at me, assessing my reaction, I can't help but notice the excitement brimming over in his eyes. He's so excited about getting me tied-up. He's so turned-on by this. I can tell. "Try to move your hands."

I do as he asks, and it's no good. I can't move at all. The duct tape is too tight, and no amount of wriggling will ever get them free. All it does it pull tight on my skin and all the little invisible hair follicles, causing it to sting in a not so unpleasant way.

"You have succeeded in keeping my hands bound behind my back, Mr. Grey. Well done."

Amusement flickers in his eyes over that. "Is it too tight? I hope it isn't cutting off your circulation. Is it?"

"I don't think so. I feel like I'm your hostage right now."

"My hostage?" His eyes roam down my body slowly, something dark and salacious in them. He is definitely getting off on this. "I like the idea of that, Miss Steele. I like the idea of that very much."

Mr. Grey's hostage indeed. This will be a first time to remember. Losing my virginity this way, with him, I know I'll remember it for the rest of my life.

* * *

**To Guest reviewer, who wrote:**

_How do I say this...part of the allure (for me at least) was that Christian was an experienced sexual partner. He was not some bumbling, fumbling boy, but a man who knew how to wring pleasure from his partners. You've emasculated him, taken the sexual tension that oozed from him, and to get that good takes practice. To me you've taken this story into the realm of teeny boopers. bye bye._

**I apologize. This is my first time writing a fanfiction, and I'm sorry if I've taken away most of that allure. I loved how Christian was written in the books as well, but I can't replicate it, as it was the own authors great work and I'm sorry if it has happened to cause any offense. This is out of character, what I'm writing, and I have changed the history where he has no subs and has spent his life, through unsuccessful tries at dating feeling as if something was fundamentally wrong with him, because of his interest in the BDSM lifestyle (where he hasn't met a woman yet who has shared that similar preference, until Ana). He is awkward and I find that is more realistic for how I have written him, and it's basically going to be a story where him and Ana are united through their mutual liking of kinkery. I am trying to write something different. I know it won't be to everyone's liking, how I have changed certain things, and I'm sorry. Thank you for being honest and so kind about it, though, and for not being mean with your opinion.  
**

**P.S: Some of you guys are very tricky customers to please ;) Thank you.**


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